


Wolves and Magic

by ApostateMage



Series: Skyrim saga [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottoming from the Top, Character Death, Complete, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hate to lust, I Tried, I reserve the right to edit these tags, Illness, Kinda, Loss of Virginity, Lust to love, M/M, Mage hate, Marking, Mating, Mentions of non-con, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective!Vilkas, Scars, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Stalking, Stubborn!Vilkas, Vampires, Vilkas bottoms only once., Vilkas sucks at feelings, Werewolves, You've been warned, bottoming from the bottom, characters that are supposed to die do, dominant!Vilkas, light non graphic torture, magic!, making some shit up, non canon magical creature, seriously, slightly OOC, stubborn nords, the companions are a big disfuctional family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 172,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateMage/pseuds/ApostateMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So…" The red head began. "..Are you always so mean to people you've just met or is this a Nord thing?" Vilkas/Male OC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Running 'round in circles

**Author's Note:**

> Before we begin I would like to take a moment to address the readers. Let me start by saying my grammar is not perfect. Please forgive the minor errors I will most likely be making. Second, this is a slash fan fiction between Vilkas and a male OC (who is not the dragonborn) The story will follow Vilkas or sometimes the Oc's path to becoming the harbinger, much like the game does but there will be differences and it will not follow the quest lines directly. This is mostly following Vilkas though. It's just easier to write for him. If this doesn't rock your socks at all, the back button is right there~ Feel free to flame about it even though I warned you, I'll just ignore hate comments. If you have something constructive to say then I welcome them~.
> 
> This takes place two years before the dragons make an appearance

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Vilkas wrenched his blade free from the Draugr Wight, hearing the satisfying crack of tissue, and fragile bone. Still, he scowled and sheathed his blade once he assessed no more threats in the area. He cursed softly under his breath and began to chip at the ice that formed on his armor after the Wight's spell went off. Damn magic. The very thought of a warrior needing magic... It sickened him. A man should be able to get by with a sword and his own two hands. That was a warrior's way. Not fancy spells and ridiculous incantations.

He shut his eyes for a moment before wrenching the last chuck of ice off his breastplate. He cringed as the crisp, cold substance bit into his warm flesh, and he cast to the ground where it shattered on impact. He clenched and unclenched his fist until the warmth returned to it and then let out a soft sigh. The thanked the nine he was a Nord sometimes. Or the eight…Or whatever. He didn't really care…It's not like he had the divines favor anyway. He glanced around at the once walking dead that lay about his feet. They didn't have divine favor either, so it seems.

A chill raced up his spine as he remembers what would await him in the end. Sovngarde would not be his finial resting place. Kodlak, his brother, Aela, Skjor and himself…They were all doomed for Hircine's hunting grounds. For Aela and Skjor, this wasn't a problem. Those two embraced their wolf-blood strongly and would enjoy the never-ending hunts when their time on Nirn was done. Vilkas however, was not so sure. He'd already decided to suppress the beast and not give into the wolf. His loyal twin, had agreed to do the same, but Vilkas knew not if it was for himself or for Vilkas. Farkas loved him and would do anything for him and that is what worried Vilkas most. He'd willingly suffer for him…willingly die. His brother needed to think for himself someday. They may not always be together. 

He jumped as said brother placed a hand on his shoulder. He tried to cover up the surprise quickly but he knew Farkas would catch it. This whole place and his own thoughts had filled him with unease and he'd let his guard down. (something that rarely happened.)

"Brother?" Farkas' big hand was comforting, but Vilkas shrugged it off.

"I am fine. Just… lost in thought." He shook his head at his twin's questioning glance. He knew Farkas had an overbearing need to comfort him when he was distressed and always seemed to know when he was. So he tried to quickly change the subject.  "Did you find what he came here for?"

"I did." The big man held up a piece of the broken blade "one step closer, brother."

"Aye…let's go then."

Farkas nodded and turned to leave. Vilkas took one last glace at the dead Draugr, before following suit. He almost sighed in relief as the sun beat down on them upon exiting the ruin. The sun washed the chill of that place off Vilkas and helped his mind clear. He felt like he could suddenly breathe again. He glanced at Farkas and found his twin watching him with a soft worried look. He smiled, if only to ease his brother.

"Everything is fine Farkas. We'll talk later. I promise." Farkas nodded and held his arms out for a hug. Vilkas almost blushed, embarrassed, even though no one was around to see the embrace. Vilkas was not very big on public display of affection. Only with Farkas did he seem to relent, but he'd still feel his cheeks color if someone was watching them. "Farkas…not now. Later."

"No. Now. Come here, Vilkas." He spoke with a grin.

Vilkas couldn't help but smile and shake his head. Farkas' good nature was sometimes infectious. "No, I said."

"Come here."

"No!"

"Come on now."

"Nooo!"

Farkas lunged at him and without a sound Vilkas bolted out of his reach. He started to run down the stone path, back toward Whiterun. He heard his twin laugh and run after him and for a while, everything felt like it was okay again....even only for a moment. Just like back when they were children, playing in the courtyard of Jorrvaskr, under the watchful eye of Jergen and Tilma. Back before he knew of the beast and what he would eventually become. Back when there were no worries, save for wondering when Jergen would come back from a mission…Back when he was happy.

The thought hade him stop running for a moment and that was all it took. Sudden weight collided into him and he found himself forced to the ground with Farkas' arms around him and his weight on his back. The blow had taken the wind right out of his lungs and he gasped against the dirt for air. Farkas laughed and squeezed him tighter."Got you!"

Vilkas coughed in response and swatted at Farkas' arm. That would show him to ever get lost in thought when his brother was chasing him with promise of impending bear hug.

"well look at what we got here boys…A couple of fairies stopping to rut in the road?"

Farkas was off him in a flash and even Vilkas sprung to his feet with the threat of violence. It took him a moment to get his breath back but the adrenaline that's gradually started to pump though his veins helped the process along. He made for his weapon as he glanced at the owner of the voice.

It was a giant Orc man in iron armor and a big cumbersome dwarven great sword on his back. Next to him was a small wood elf in fur armor with a bow and a redguard woman also in fur, wielding a crude looking axe.

"These ones are well armed boss…" The wood elf spoke lifting his bow. "Maybe we should just…move on?"

"Nonsense." The redguard said with a mean smile. She nudged the Orc and gestured to the twins. "It will be easy."

"You should listen to your little friend." Farkas warned, readying his great sword. "Mess with us and you mess with the companions."

The three brigands exchanged glances. Vilkas could see that the companion name held some weight by the hesitation in their eyes. Vilkas glared at the Orc, almost daring him to attack. Everything in him howled to rip these three to shreds. He'd be doing the world a favor, he told himself. Brigands were nothing but trouble that did nothing but hurt people who didn't deserve it. The grip on his sword tightened and his lips curved into a wolfish sneer. The blood was calling to him and he was teetering on the edge of his restraint. His teeth ground together, wanting to rip into the soft spot in their throats and rend the fresh from their bones...

The Orc held up his hand and his two friends but their weapons away.

"You win this time, meat." They walked around the twins, giving them a very wide berth. Vilkas watched their retreating figures, his knuckles white from how hard he clenched his weapon. His jaw clenched tightly, as he thought about chasing after them. Hunting them. Killing them.

"Vilkas…Vilkas. Come on." Farkas shook his shoulder. "Let it go."

"…fine." He shoved Farkas away and sheathed his weapon. He was angry. Angry at the brigands, angry at Farkas for holding him back, and mostly angry at himself for wanting to slaughter them…for wanting to give in… He took a deep breath, trying to steady his wracked nerves. He knew it wasn't Farkas' fault and he shouldn't be taking things out on him. A quick glance showed the hurt of Farkas' face, and Vilkas looked away quickly again as guilt replaced the anger. "Sorry."

"Vilkas..."

"Brother, its fine. Let's go home."

"Yeah…okay." They walked back, side-by-side in silence. The sun set by the time they got back and Vilkas wanted nothing more then to collapse face down in his bed and forget that today ever happened. Unfortunately, they were greeted by Skjor and the hall was full of their shield brothers and sisters. The hall was filled with noise and merriment; something Vilkas used to look forward to. Now, it only made him want to retreat to the corner like a kicked dog. When did he become like this?

"Welcome back brothers." Skjor spoke with a smile. "I assume you were successful?"

"That we were!" Farkas grinned proudly and produced the shard of Ysgramor's blade.

"Excellent, I'll bring this to Eorlund in a moment so he can get it mounted. In the mean time, Njada and Athis were about to have a training session in the hall. Would you care to observe, brothers?"

"Sure." Farkas answered and then looked to Vilkas. "Brother?"

Vilkas opened his mouth to decline, but saw Kodlak gesturing to him by the stairs. A prefect excuse that wouldn't draw too much attention. "…no. I'm going to talk with the old man for a bit. You two enjoy."

"Oh…okay." Farkas spoke to his brothers retreating form as the two fighters began to brawl. Vilkas was already downstairs and out of sight before he finished saying _'okay.'_ Farkas sighed and stood next to Skjor to watch the fight.

"What's wrong with Vilkas tonight?"

Farkas forced a smile. "He's just being cranky. its fine."

"I see." He stopped to call a word of encouragement to Njada before turning back to Farkas. "I heard you took on a Giant last night."

"Yeah. A new prospect showed up and helped us take it down."

"Aela mentioned him. Must have been good to get her attention."

"Yeah. He's…. a bit strange in his method's though. I'm pretty sure Vilkas wouldn't like the way he fights…you know how he is."

"You mean the new prospect was a-" The door opened and they both glanced up from the fight to see who was walking through the door. Skjor raised an eyebrow and Farkas' eyes widened just slightly.

"Well, speak of the devil…"

 

Vilkas eased himself into the seat next to Kodlak and looked at his feet. He didn't really want to face the old man…partially because he had a feeling that Kodlak already somehow knew about his _almost_ lapse of judgment.

"Talk to me boy. Tell me what's troubling you…and don't tell me, nothing. I know by the look of you that something is amiss." Damn perceptive old bastard.

"I…Almost lost control today." He glanced up at Kodlak and saw the old man nod, telling him to continue. "We were harassed by brigands on the round and I almost…"

"I know of your dislike of bandits and thieves, Vilkas. It has been a while since Jergen died from such an attack…but there is no honor is killing an enemy that hasn't done wrong."

"They probably have!" Vilkas snarled, and then corrected himself once he saw the look Kodlak gave him. "What I mean is that they probably already murdered innocent people and I just let them walk away."

"You don't know if they've done anything Vilkas. You cannot save everyone you come across. Some people are beyond help boy. What you need is an anchor. Someone to help you stay in the flesh of a man and keep you there, even when the blood calls you."

"I thought Farkas would help me, but little by little...I feel like I'm slipping away, even when he's around." He wanted to slam his fist into the table. Vilkas hated feeling so helpless. 

He heard Kodlak heave a sigh. "Are you upset because you let those people get away? Or are you upset for almost losing control of your beast?"

"…"

Kodlak smiled, not unkindly and nodded. "I understand."

"It's just… I can still hear the call of the blood."

"I know, Vilkas. It's a burden to bear and….we have a guest."

Vilkas looked up at the newcomer to the hall. First thing he noticed about the stranger was the violent red color of his hair and his shining copper eyes.

"And you are…?" Kodlak eyed the stranger wary but there was almost a startling recognition in his eyes that Vilkas didn't understand. The young man smiled in an almost mischievous way, his eyes darting to Vilkas before resting on Kodlak.

"My name is Vincent Renalt." He spoke proudly and gave a half bow in respect. "I'm here to join the companions."


	2. A candle in the window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My name is Vincent Renalt." He spoke proudly and gave a half bow in respect. "I'm here to join the companions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I forgot to mention that I don't own anything other than my OC's. Sorry about that.

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"My name is Vincent Renalt." He spoke proudly and gave a half bow in respect. "I'm here to join the companions."

"Oh?" Kodlak asked, but his tone seemed unsurprised. Was he expecting this man?

"Yes, sir."

Vilkas' narrowed his eyes and inspected the stranger more closely. His style was not that of Skyrim, for that matter. It looks like he wore a white tunic with a black vest over it. His legs were wrapped in dark, form fitting trousers and pulled into brown knee high travelers' boots. His hands were wrapped in the same dark, leathery substance that his pants were made of, and then there was that coat…He was obviously eccentric by the light blues and soft purples that made up the coat.

Vilkas was not sure if he liked the fact that all the skin he could see on the stranger was just his neck and face. his skin as white as the driven snow and hair as red as fresh spilt blood. His eyes also unnerved Vilkas. The copper orbs looked as if they held sensuality, trouble and dangerous intentions. Trouble. That is all this whelp would be.

After a moment, Vilkas voiced his disapproval. "We have a lot of problems right now Kodlak. We shouldn't be adding more to that list."

Those copper eyes fell on him with unreadable intent. The stranger still smiled despite the intended insult, and Vilkas bristled at the arrogance of it. Yeah…definitely trouble.

"Nonsense, Vilkas. We always have a place at Jorrvaskr as long as we have empty beds and those with fire in their hearts. "Kodlak smiled at the red head. "How are you in battle, boy?"

"I can handle myself well enough, sir."

"Hum, we will see about that. Vilkas take the lad to the courtyard and test him."

Vilkas almost growled in protest but when his eyes fell on the newcomer, he changed his mind. Maybe he would get to knock the pretty boy on his ass and then send him packing. Yes, that was a good way to deal with trouble.

"Aye." He stood up and glared down at the other man. "You. Come with me." Then he started to walk, not caring if the whelp followed him. If that brat could just do him a favor and not follow, that would be fabulous. Sure enough, he could hear his light footsteps behind him. Vilkas bristled again at how quiet he was. He was probably some kind of thief. _Great..._

"So…" The red head began, "..Are you always so mean to people you've just met or is this a Nord thing?"

Vilkas stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

"Just asking." The red head's smile was coy and playful. It made Vilkas feel like he was being disrespected. "There was no reason to attempt to insult me back there, seeing as you just met me…unless your like that to every person you come across."

"Shut it, outsider." he growled a warning. He could feel a headache coming on.  "I don't have to explain myself to you. It's not like you'll last more then a week anyway."

The stranger seemed undeterred by the insult yet again, and kept that smile. "I have a name. I am not you, boy, outsider or whelp. My name is Vincent Renalt. Or, were you not paying attention when I introduced myself?"

"I don't care to know your name." Vilkas snapped, before he turned and resumed walking. He bit back another growl when he heard Vincent let out a mocking _'Oooh_ '. Little Bastard. Vilkas stormed upstairs, ignoring the questioning glances that his fellow shield siblings gave him, and marched out into the moonlight lit courtyard.

He stared up at the moon and sighed. The cold air helping to ease the pressure in his temples.  He just wanted to go to bed…but _Nooo!_ He had to test some little shit in combat. Lucky him. He could feel Vincent near him, and asked without turning around, "Are you ready then?"

"As I'll ever be."

Vilkas turned and felt his breath catch for the briefest of moments. Vincent's skin practically glowed in the moonlight. Out here, the whelp seemed an ethereal beauty, that Vilkas was not accustomed to seeing. Beautiful was not a word he should describe for a man but he could not think of another word for it. Vilkas was not very free with his affections but when he found a woman or man he liked he usually pursued it until he got it. It was never more then a few nights and then never seeing them ever again. He was blunt with his attractions, and did not expect any lasting effect with anyone he ever took to bed. Vincent was **NOT** the type of man he usually went for. He liked big men. Men taller then him at least. He liked rough hands and strong arms that could try hold him down. Yet he felt the slightest stir in his stomach when he gazed upon him in the moonlight. It was only the slightest stir of arousal and he forced it away with a snort.

He was too pretty for a man. This little whelp defiantly was not his type in the slightest. Although, the attitude was something Vilkas could enjoy if the circumstances were different. He always did love a good fight. It got the blood pumping, the adrenaline flowing, and usually led to a good fuck. 

"Draw your blade then and we'll get started." Vilkas spoke as he pulled out a sword and shield. He thought about just ruining this kid's night by attacking him with his two handed weapon but he WAS supposed to test him, not kill him.

"Alright then."

The hair on Vilkas' neck stood on end as a bright light cut through the darkness. He knew this tingle in the air and instantly growled in distaste. Vincent held a transparent axe in his right hand and smiled as if nothing were amiss.

"We don't use magic weapons here." Vilkas hissed, making his displeasure evident. He should have known Vincent for a mage. It fucking figures. 

Vincent blinked. "Why not?"

"Because, magic is a coward's tool!"

Vincent seemed unfazed by his outburst; probably used to every Nord he came across telling him how much they hated magic. He closed his hand into a tight fist and the axe vanished from view. He then opened the breast of his coat and felt around near his belt. Vilkas tried to act unsurprised as he pulled out an ebony mace.

"Will this do?"

"Does it have any of those fancy enchantments on it?"

Vincent grinned and shook his head. "I rarely use it."

"Good. That's fine then." at least he had a good taste in maces. "Now, strike at me a few times so I can see your swing." He relaxed his shield slightly, he was sure the kid could not swing very hard, especially if he rarely swung the damn thing. He suddenly felt crippling force crash against his shield and jostle the nerves in his arm. He cringed against the sudden, and unexpected pain the blow caused. He instantly tightened the muscles in his arm and caught the next forceful blow without the same effect. He would not underestimate the strength in that little body again. He was much faster then he looked too. He did not seem slow in his swings with the mace as most did. He wielded the ebony mace like it was an extension of his arm and even though Vilkas did not want to admit it; he was secretly impressed.

"Alright. That's enough." Vilkas called and Vincent stopped instantly. He glanced at the smug look on the red heads face and felt heat burn in his gut. He was so…annoying. "You show some promise but you are still just a whelp to us, boy." Vincent rolled his copper eyes in defiance of his opinion but remained silent.

"In the mean time, you can take my sword up to Eorlund at the sky forge to get sharpened. Do you think you could handle that?" He asked eyeing Vincent in a way that just dared him to say no.

"Sure."

Vilkas practically thrust his sword into Vincent's hands and scowled down at him. "Get to it, Whelp." He bumped into Vincent's shoulder as he walked past, satisfied when the smaller male stumbled a bit. Vilkas caught the smell of rich, vibrant fire as he passed. It was for the briefest moment, but it flooded his senses and almost made him dizzy. The smell was like burning dry leaves on a crisp winter night. A delicious smell that made Vilkas think of better times with his family. As soon as he had smelt it, it was gone. Gone along with Vincent's retreating form, toward the sky forge.

With one last glace at the direction the redhead was heading, he marched back up to the hall where Farkas and Aela were waiting. They had seen the whole embarrassing fight of course. Aela was smirking; obviously amused at the time Vilkas had testing Vincent. Vilkas' arm still stung as a mocking reminder. He looked to his brother, who was smiling but not like how Aela was. "So? How is he?"

"…He…shows an inkling of promise."

Aela chuckled. "How long do you give him?"

Vilkas looked up toward the sky forge, his breath coming out in a plume of white mist as he spoke "I give him a week, if that." He pushed past them both to where his bed would be beckoning to him. A week…that was already way too long for Vilkas' liking.


	3. Give me direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you kids are going to make out, do it somewhere else! I have to clean!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vincent's turn for POV

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As Vincent reached the top, he took in the sights of the sky forge. It was much larger and wide open that he would have imagined. He was taken aback by a sudden gush of heat on his face, that he almost backpedaled in a panic to escape the feeling. He instantly calmed when he realized it was just an open forge pit. He regained his footing and wandered a bit closer. He watched the embers rise up from the forge before turning to smoke and dissolving into the chill on the night. A distant thought crossed his mind while he gazed into the dangerous flames but it was fleeting. He pushed the errant memory aside, at least for now, and approached an elderly man with powerful arms, bent over the forge. The man looked up as Vincent approached and the red head almost stopped. This did seem a bit odd but this man was the only one up here. This must be the man to give the sword to. He really didn't want to disturb him... he looked busy.

"Yes?"

The sound of the old man's voice almost made Vincent jump. He wasn't sure why he was jittery tonight. Maybe it was the memory of violent fire, setting his nerves on edge tonight. He pulled out Vilkas' sword and held it out in a presenting tradition.

"Vilkas asked me to give this to you to sharpen." Eorlund looked at him funny for a moment, probably wondering who the red-head was. That and he wasn't taking the sword from him. Sensing his confusion, Vincent smiled kindly. "I'm Vincent Renalt. I hope to be a companion soon…if I'm not already. I'm not entirely sure how this even works."

"Vilkas sent you…? He sent you all the way up here to get his sword sharpened?"

"Yes sir."

"Don't call me sir and no one owns you, boy." Eorlund grey-mane spoke as he took Vilkas' sword from Vincent. "You're not some errand boy for the companions. No one rules anyone here."

Vincent bit his bottom lip and thought for a moment. He had assumed as much but it seemed impossible. "How does a place like this function then? How do you keep everyone from killing one another over the silliest of things?"

The fist fight he had walked in on being reason for this line of questioning. He was told by Farkas, whom he had met before, that it was just training. It certainly didn't seem like just a training session by the way they were hitting each other. There was anger behind those strikes and any fool could see that. The place seemed unruly, yet organized. A place that someone like Vincent should never go. A place no one would ever expect him to go. 

"Boy, the companions haven't had a real leader since Ysgramor. Kodlak is sort of in charge, and the circle members pretty much run the show. You've met most of them."

"Farkas, Aela, Skjor and Vilkas, right?"

"That's right."

"And you? Are you a companion?"

Eorlund shook his head. "Not me. I just run the forge. I produce the best steel in all Skyrim."

"I see. Skyforge Steel right?"

"Whatever gave you that idea? This IS only the sky forge."

Vincent rolled his eyes. He did ask for that one he supposed. "So you're a funny Nord."

Eorlund cracked a small smile. "And you're a Breton with an odd choice in pastel clothing."

Vincent couldn't help it and laughed good-naturedly. He felt some of his anxiety wash away. "I'm surprised you know what pastel colors are."

"I do have a wife, boy." he shook his head, the smile falling from his face. "Try not to get suckered into doing all the circles' dirty work, okay boy? You're going to be a warrior. Not an errand boy."

"Ah. Well, thank you for your time." Vincent turned to start walking back down the cold stone steps, but Eorlund called out to him.

"Before you head back lad would you do me a favor?"

Vincent smiled and looked over his shoulder. "You just told me I don't have to run errands."

"It's a favor. Not an errand."

The red head laughed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I was just giving you a hard time. Of course I'll do the favor. What is it?"

Eorlund walked over to the side of the forge and picked up a newly crafted shield. It was handsome in design and very well made at only a glance.

"Could you take this shield to Aela? I'd do it myself but I have some more work to do."Vincent almost commented on how this task was not unlike the one he just ran for Vilkas, but he bit his tongue and just nodded.

"Good. Hop to it." He handed the shield over and Vincent hooked it to his arm so he couldn't drop it. It was heavier then it looked.

He wobbled back down the stairs and away from the sky forge. His balance was slightly off by the heavy shield on his arm and he was unused to carrying one. He knew how to attack someone with a shield…not really how to utilize one himself. He began to wonder if joining these companions was a good idea. It seemed like a safe place to rest his head…something he was unused to. He would have to watch his step around these people, less he be expelled back out into the world. He needed to be here…at least for now.

He felt like he should possibly apologize to Vilkas. Vilkas may have given him an attitude but Vincent was just as guilty by giving it back. Best not piss off a member of the circle before he has made friends with all the other ones. Friends and a low profile were needed, at least for now; At least until he could come up with a better plan, because this safety wouldn't last forever.

It was an unfortunate truth.

Vincent shoulder checked the door to Jorrvaskr open, while using both hands to keep the shield from dragging on the ground or scuffing the door as he made his way inside. Hot air instantly hit him in the face and made his cheeks tingle from the temperature change. It was getting late so not many people were in the dining hall. Vincent sighed, he was lucky he'd already eaten today. He slung the shield over his shoulder and made for the living quarters. Honestly, what made him actually take these people up on their offer to join their organization? There must have been a dozen better suited organizations for Vincent's talents in Skyrim, and it seems he'd chosen the more testosterone, Nord, filled one. Well, he was here now in a split moment decision and he'd make the best of it. It also suited his needs for the moment. This would be the last place anyone would ever look for him. 

He carefully maneuvered down the steps and into the living quarters. He could hear the sounds of snoring coming from the room directly in front of him and he half smiled. He liked the sounds of others snoring while they slept. It made a room feel not so empty in the dead of night. He remembered when he had to share a bunk with a bunch of other boys. All crowded in afraid, trying to draw strength from one another. The sound of snoring meant someone was there and that brought an untold comfort. He'd be able to sleep just fine.

A sudden rough jab to his shoulder from behind made him stumble and drop the shield to the ground with a loud clang. The snoring stopped for a brief moment before returning to its normal tempo.

"Watch it, whelp!" A Nord woman strolled past him growled like an animal. Vincent recognized her as winner or the brawl/training session he had walked in on.

"Watch it?" He frowned. "You're the one who slammed into me. You watch it."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them and he could see her fists, clenching and unclenching at her sides. He cursed his combative nature in that moment. "You have quite the mouth on you for a milk drinker." She sneered, moving a threatening step closer to him.

He stood his ground, determined not to flinch or back down from this. He'd stood up to much worse and had faced a far worse devil than his woman could ever hope to be.  Somewhere in the back of his head, it did cross his mind that this was probably a very bad idea. They were almost nose to nose now, starring angrily at each other…waiting for the other to throw the first punch.

"If you kids are going to make out, do it somewhere else! I have to clean!"

The Nord recoiled as if the statement burned. Vincent turned to see an elderly woman with a broom starring at the two of them, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Him and me? Yuck!" She growled again and started to retreat. "I only fuck men."

_Ouch._

Vincent ignored the comment and scrambled to pick up the discarded shield so she could resume cleaning. "I'm sorry, madam."

She snorted. "I just got madam'ed? That's a new one. Who are you, boy?"

"My name is Vincent."

"Well Vincent, let me tell you that you should be careful when dealing with Njada Stonearm. She doesn't have many friends here and she likes it that way. She's more likely to punch first and ask questions later so unless you want to end up bruised and bloody, best avoid conflict with her."

Vincent struggled to situate the shield on his arm again and nodded. "Thank you ma- …What should I call you?"

"You can call me Tilma, Vincent. It is good to meet you."

"I'll move along now so you can resume cleaning, Madam Tilma." A small smile actually came to the old woman's face.

"It warms my heart to hear such a polite young man. Never loose that heart to a violent place like this."

Her words confused him slightly but he nodded. If he hadn't lost heart yet, he didn't thin he was ever going to. He resumed his task, turning right down the long hallways and toward where he first met Vilkas and Kodlak. He stopped at a cross way, going left, right and forward. He stopped and listened for a moment, hoping to gather some clue to where he should go. He could hear a woman's voice to his left, so he tried that way first. Sure enough there was Aela the huntress, speaking with Skjor.

"Excuse me?" He spoke to get their attention. They both looked over instantly and he almost jumped at the suddenness of it.

"Ah, it's the new initiate." Aela smiled. "What brings you?"

"Sir Eorlund asked me to give this shield to you."

Skjor snickered and muttered a _'sir'_ under his breath but Aela hushed him.

"Thank you. I've been waiting for this." She took the shield from him and Vincent felt his arms sag slightly. Thank the gods, that thing was heavy… "So, we saw you training with Vilkas. How do you think you would handle him in a real fight?"

Vincent thought for a moment. Vilkas seemed talented but slightly more awkward with a shield. A sword and shield style probably wasn't his first choice. By the way he carried himself; Vincent had assumed he was a two-handed weapon fighter. Vincent may have a chance if he used his magic… He glanced up at their curious expressions and decided not to bring that little number up. Although Aela had known…she was there when he cast it.

"I think it would be a good challenge. I'm not sure who would win."

"Fair enough." She nodded. "Farkas! Come here for a moment!"

Sure enough, in came Farkas. He stood behind Vincent and spoke to Aela as if the red head wasn't even there.

"Yeah?"

"Care to take the new member to where he'll be staying?"

"Yeah, sure." He looked directly at Vincent then. "You can come with me."

Vincent nodded, bowed to Aela and Skjor before hurrying after Farkas.

"It's always good to see new blood." Farkas broke the silence as he led Vincent back the way he came. "I'm glad you decided to join up with us. You didn't need to help us with that giant but I'm glad you came along when you did."Vincent's cheeks flushed red from the praise.

"It was nothing. I-I'm surprised you welcomed me so warmly. I…didn't use traditional means to help you after all…"

"You mean magic." Farkas smiled and pat him on the back, nearly taking the wind out of poor Vincent's lungs. "Don't worry about that. You use it well."

"That's…a very different reaction that I got from…" He stopped talking. He probably shouldn't talk bad about the man's twin.

"From Vilkas?" Farkas finished for him so Vincent nodded, miserably. "Don't worry about my brother. He doesn't like magic but he won't complain when it's helping us."

"If you don't mind me asking, Farkas…why does he hate magic so much…?"

Farkas stopped walking and took a deep sigh. "That's a long story, Vincent and I'm not sure I should be the one to tell you."

"But-"

"Don't worry so much about how Vilkas will react to something. My brother is strict but he has a good heart. He's passionate about what he does and he's damn good at it. He'll die to protect you or anyone of us. THAT is all that should matter." He was so different from his brother, despite the fact they were clearly twins. He was gentle and kind despite his size, and it seemed something his stone cold brother seemed to lack.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Farkas. I just…don't want to burn any bridges while I'm here." Farkas chuckled and pat him on the back again. Vincent flinched at the force behind the blow but was pretty sure Farkas just didn't know his own strength. They resumed walking.

"Well, just remember…Aela, Skjor and I like you well enough. Three out of four anit half bad."

"I guess not…but should I apologize to him?"

"To Vilkas? For what?"

"I…gave him a bit of an attitude earlier." He remembered Vilkas' scowl and seeing the distaste in his icy blue eyes. For some reason, it made Vincent sad. He'd put up a good front, but deep down Vilkas' words had stung. He'd been called almost every curse under the sun, so why had it hurt so much? Had not become numb to this by now? 

"Well, I'm sure my brother was doing something to deserve it…but do so if it makes you feel better. Not sure it will change a thing, though."

"Okay…thanks."

"Well… here we are."They stopped outside the door that the snoring was emitting from. Vincent chuckled slightly from the noise."Hope snoring doesn't bother you Vincent."

"No it doesn't."

"Do you have any possessions?"

"I brought a knapsack with me. It's still up in the hall."

"Well, go get that and set yourself up in an empty bed. I look forward to working with you Vincent…I don't see too many Bretons in Skyrim."

Vincent smiled, kindly enough. "Thank you, Farkas. You've been really kind to me ever since we've met. I appreciate that."

"No problem, Vincent. Welcome to the companions."

Vincent watched as Farkas turned and walked away. He is a nice man…Vincent jogged back up the stairs to get his knapsack. He snatched it off the floor where he left it and found its contents undisturbed. Throwing it over his shoulder, he took it back downstairs and into the living quarters where he'd be staying. He choose a bed near the back, mostly confined to itself and without many people around. He made sure it was the bed farthest from that Nord woman he'd bumped into earlier. He set the knapsack down and took off his pastel colored coat. He hung it on a wall peg near by before sitting down on the bed and slipping his boots off. He pulled his knapsack a bit closer and started digging around in it. He pulled out his potion and set it on the bedside table before looking into his alchemy pouch. He had enough ingredients for three more doses of that. Soon he'd have to go looking for some."Maybe I'll get some new plants when I go out on missions for the companions." He muttered to himself to feel less alone. It was something he'd grown accustomed to.

He took his potion off the table and with a quick grimace drank it in one gulp. He almost wretched up from the taste of it. He could feel it working though and he almost let out a sigh of relief. He corked the bottle and put it back in his knapsack before closing it up and setting it aside.

He swung his feet over so he was flaying on the bed now and pulled the furs over his body. It was pretty comfortable…much better then what he'd been used to these past nine years. He sighed and shut his eyes. The sun would be coming up soon and she should at least try to sleep. He mostly stayed awake, however…his mind occupied with thoughts of Vilkas and how to make it up to him.


	4. Make everything clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent collapsed against him, all the strength seemingly drained from his small frame. The grip Vincent had on him was weak and Vilkas knew all too well it was the grip of a dying man. He held Vincent's face in his hands, feeling helpless to stop what was happening to him.
> 
> "…no." He whispered as he stared into the dying man's eyes. "Don't leave me too… Don't go!"

\----  
\---  
\--

He was lonely. That he knew and it was a clear as a cloudless day. His pack was gone, moved on and left him behind in his self-doubt. He couldn't smell anyone near by and his ears dropped with his depression. He didn't want to be alone tonight. Where had his pack mates gone off to? Why had they left him all alone int he cold? Had he done something to deserve this?

He padded through the snow, his tail slightly between his legs as he sniffed the ground. He hoped he would pick up the trail of his pack but he smelt nothing but snow and the crisp night air. He never thought his pack would abandon him as they had. The very thought sent another wave of depression through his frame. Maybe it was an accident. He held out hope that it was just a mistake and they'd be coming back for him at any moment. 

_"Vilkas…."_

It was soft and faint but he picked it up instantly. The sound made Vilkas' ears perk up. Had he heard right?

_"….Vilkas…."_

There it was again! He knew this voice! An image of the smiling redhead flashed before him and his tail began wagging. Vincent was still here! Vincent was waiting for him! He knew they wouldn't abandon him completely! They must have sent Vincent to come get him!

He put his nose to the ground and tried to pick up the scent. There! He found it but it was faint. The smell of wild, untamed fire. He dashed on all fours to the source before he lost it. He couldn't lose this! He needed this! His blood was pumping as he dashed through the snowy brush and frostbitten shrubbery. It was stronger now. He was closer! He let out a pleased happy bark as if to tell Vincent to wait for him. Vilkas' heart hammered in his chest as he got closer and closer. He bolted out of the shrubs and into the clearing where the scent was strongest. The air was thick with the smell…his smell. The scent of fire was all around him, filling his senses and leaving him with an air of contentment. Vincent's smell…

"Vilkas."

His ears perked again and he whipped around to face the voice. Vincent stood a few feet away, his visage almost obscured by trees and other plant life. The mage smiled, although it was a bit sad for Vilkas' liking. Something made Vilkas feel grounded as long as the red head was around. He shouldn't be sad! Vilkas was here now! He'd protect him! Vincent pushed away from the tree he was resting against and turned around. With one last glance over his shoulder, he began walking away. He was leaving?

Vilkas moved to follow but he found he couldn't move. He looked down to see that roots from the trees had sprung up from the ground and had ensnared him. He whimpered and whined as he struggles to break free from the brambles. He grasped a large gnarled root between his teeth and ripped it away. It cut into his mouth painfully but he did not care. He needed to go after Vincent! He barked loudly. **WAIT! WAIT FOR ME!** He could not be alone again! It was getting darker and the scent was fading fast.

A sudden scream pierced the darkness, making Vilkas' heart race. That sounded like Vincent! He let out a growl of frustration and ripped the roots off one by one and as soon as he was free, he resumed the chase.

He ran faster then he ever had in his entire life. Vincent was in danger! He had to save him! He ran and ran for what seemed like hours… Finally, the scent became strong again and he caught sight of the mage. His back was turned but he wasn't moving. Vilkas barked in relief. He's waiting for me again…Gods be praised.  He let out a pleased yelp as he caught up with him. His quarry had stopped running. Now he could relax. As he dashed out into the new clearing with the redhead, he almost slipped in a foreign substance. A new smell suddenly assaulted him and made him recoil.

It was blood. Very fresh blood.

The ground was covered, staining the fresh snow a dark red color. He looked to Vincent and let out a worried bark. _Please be okay! Please do not be hurt!_ The blood pooled around the mage and stained his pastel cloak an ugly brownish-red color. He could hear Vincent coughing in a raspy, cracked way that didn't sound too healthy. He could practically smell the _sickness_ , radiating from the red head. He drew closer…a bit wary now but still incredibly worried. He let out a soft whine to try to get Vincent's attention.

Vincent turned and instead of that pretty smile that Vilkas had been waiting for, he was greeted with a sight most foul. Blood was pouring from Vincent's mouth as he coughed and choked. The stream seemed endless as it poured down his chin and neck before vanishing into his tunic and vest. His tunic was stained the color of his hair and his skin had a sickly, clammy look to it. He extended a gloved hand toward Vilkas and stumbled a few steps closer.

Vilkas found that he was suddenly a man again and reached out to grasp the mage. Vincent collapsed against him, all the strength seemingly drained from his small frame. The grip Vincent had on him was weak and Vilkas knew all too well it was the grip of a dying man. He held Vincent's face in his hands, feeling helpless to stop what was happening to him.

"…no." He whispered as he stared into the dying man's eyes. "Don't leave me too… Don't go!" He didn't want to be alone! He couldn't be alone! Vincent needed to stay with him!

He watched those lips stained with blood open and gasp in air, desperately trying to breathe but erupt into another coughing fit as nothing but blood flowed. He wanted to shake him, to throttle him, anything to stop this from happening! He pressed their foreheads together and grit his teeth at how cold Vincent's skin felt.

"Vincent! VINCENT!"

"…come….for…."

"W-what?" Vilkas stared into the light that was fading from those copper eyes. "Tell me! Speak to me!"

Vincent erupted into another coughing fit but grabbed hold of Vilkas' body tightly. He put his bloody lips to Vilkas' ear and in a raspy voice, managed to whisper… "He's….come…for…me…"

Vilkas suddenly felt the chill of magic brush up against his spine and he let out a scream as sudden pain exploded into his back. He grit his teeth against the corrosive pain, his  vision swiming. He gripped the red head tightly although he no longer felt life stir within him and his world spun, as he collapsed to the blood covered ground atop Vincent.

This is it, he told himself silently. He didn't have the will to hold himself up anymore and rested his cheek upon that crimson red hair as his lifeblood poured from his back. He nuzzled Vincent's limp red hair weakly but didn't expect any kind of response. He knew Vincent was dead. His breathing had stopped and his heart was stilled. There was no subtle twitch of his body… no sudden intake of breath…no nothing, and the revelation of the mages' death left him feeling hollow but strangely, not alone...He knew he would follow him to the afterlife soon. With the last of his strength, he clung to the mages' corpse and for the first time in a long time, he cried.  
\-----

"Vilkas."

His eyes cracked open and he instantly groaned. A dream…His sleep was never peaceful due to his beast blood…but that…that was criminal. He rolled on his side, trying to get his bearings as he glanced up at the one who woke him.

Kodlak smiled as he sat in the chair in Vilkas' room as if he had every reason in the world to be sitting there. Vilkas rubbed his eyes and sat upright.

"Good morning, Vilkas."

"Kodlak?"

"Aye. By the look of how you were thrashing in your sleep, you must have been having one hell of a dream."

Vilkas was about to scold the old man for watching him sleep but a sudden pang of fear halted him. He bolted to his feet in panic but Kodlak remained seated and watched him calmly.

"Relax, Vilkas."

"Where is Vincent?!"

Kodlak tilted his head to the side. "He is with your brother. I had Skjor assign them a mission together. It is Vincent's proving test. If he passes, he'll be made a full companion."

"Anything dangerous?"

Kodlak smiled, apparently finding Vilkas' panic, endearing. "Everything we do is dangerous Vilkas. You know this."

"That's not…" Vilkas paced like a caged animal. "That's not what I meant."

"Relax, Vilkas. You are far too fiery for your own good. Farkas is with Vincent so I am sure he is perfectly fine."

"Right…" Vilkas bit his bottom lip, his pacing resuming.

"Vilkas…I had no idea you were so concerned about Vincent. I had no idea you liked him so much."

That made Vilkas stop pacing instantly. "Excuse me?"

Kodlak smiled as if nothing about that statement was so horribly wrong. "You heard me, boy. You seem very worried about him. From the rough start the two of you had, I assumed you were still cross with him. I am glad to see you must have made up."

He opened his mouth then instantly shut it again. Why **WAS** he so concerned about Vincent? Yeah, the dream had been scary and somewhat confusing but now he was awake. He didn't like Vincent... hell he could barely stand the guy! So, why did he care so much? His dream played back in his mind and he growled again. He was so frustrated and confused to the point of wanting to scream but he wouldn't do so in front of Kodlak. He'd already laid his soul bare in front of the old man too many times and he didn't need to do so now.

"It makes me glad…" Kodlak continued. "…to see you two getting along. I know Vincent will bring honor to the companions and it warms me to know you accept him."

Vilkas almost rained on the old man's parade but he choose not to when he saw how happy he seemed to be. So, Vilkas just sighed and collected his armor off the stand. "How early is it?"

"It's getting closer to mid-day now."

Vilkas spun fully around, dropping his breastplate in the process. "What?"

Kodlak laughed. "No one had the heart to wake you boy."

"I wish they had." he grumbled and retrieved his fallen breastplate. "I had a horrible nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it Vilkas? You know I'm willing to listen."

Vilkas almost said yes…Talking about his worries with Kodlak usually made him feel better…but he wasn't willing this time. He needed to try to figure out what this dream meant to him and the purpose of Vincent being in it….and this…he needed to do alone.

"No…No thank you Kodlak. It was just a stupid nightmare. Nothing more."

"I see."

"I better get ready then. Thank you for waking me." he donned the rest of his armor and quickly applied his war paint before grabbing his sword off it's stand and heading for the door.

"Vilkas."

Vilkas stopped before he reached the door. "Aye?"

"Meet me in the courtyard in a few minutes. Farkas and Vincent should be back soon and if they are successful, I'd like your help initiating him in."

"Okay."

"Good. Off you go then." Kodlak spoke as he stood up and dusted himself off. Vilkas wasted no time and stormed out of his bedroom. Kodlak watched him go with a worried sigh. Little did Vilkas know, he was not the only one to dream of the mage.

 

When the noon sun was high in the sky, Farkas and Vincent returned from their mission. Everyone was out to see them back, even Njada. Farkas wore a grin as he approached and Vincent followed slowly in tow. Vilkas noted that the redhead seemed tired…maybe he had not slept well either…that or he was hurt. Vilkas felt his gut twist in a slight knot at the thought but he shoved the feeling aside and replaced his concern with a stone mask of indifference. Why had a nightmare changed his disposition for Vincent? 

"Are you successful?" Kodlak asked Farkas as they approached.

"We were." Farkas held up a fragment of the blade. "Vincent preformed honorably in the field of battle and I can attest to it."

Skjor smiled and took the fragment. Then looked to Kodlak to resume the ceremony.

Vilkas watched Vincent as Kodlak spoke. Vilkas wasn't really listening to the old man…it was a speech he had heard tons of times. He scanned the redhead's face for any sign of pain and only found slight discomfort. He was still not sure why he was feeling so concerned for him…that dream must have really gotten to him. I mean, come on… He'd never want to care about the Breton. He was too headstrong...too cocksure and arrogant. Not to mention he was rude to his betters.

Vilkas tensed as Vincent's eyes rose to meet his and a spark of recognition flared between the two. Copper eyes held steel blue ones and didn't tear away. Vilkas felt heat coil in his gut and replace his axietity. There was that flash of attraction again. They did nothing but argue when they were around each other, but Vilkas found that he didn't mind his presence so much anymore. Vincent still wasn't his type of man, but he found himself attracted anyway. He'd wish it would hurry up and harden into nothing soon. It was only then that Vilkas had realized the ceremony had ended and mostly everyone had dispersed. His brother was talking quietly to Kodlak and gesturing in their direction.

"Miss me, Vilkas?"

Vilkas almost jumped at the sound of Vincent's voice and he glared down at the smaller man.

"No."

"That's so cold." The redhead rolled his eyes in a way that never failed to aggravate Vilkas.

"You did well as a shield brother then?"

"Naturally."

"You sound sure of yourself…"

"Your brother thought I did well." A small sly smile came to the redhead's lips and it made Vilkas want to slap the expression off his face. He both hated and enjoyed how cocky he sounded.

"Did you have to rely on your fancy magic to save your skin?" Vilkas spat out before he could stop himself.

He saw Vincent huff and look quickly to Farkas before looking back at Vilkas. "My magic has done nothing but aid the companions."

"So far." Vilkas finished for him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Vincent crossed his arms, looking annoyed. Hey, at least that smile was gone.

"Mages can't be trusted. That power you have is too unstable and easily abused."

"You can't be serious."

"I am." Vilkas also crossed his arms and strengthened his glare. It always seemed to come down to this between them. "You command power that could enslave men. You can cause great destruction with a wave of the hand and I don't like it."

"My power?" He scoffed. "My power has done nothing bad to you."

"I don't like it." Vilkas repeated with an icy edge to his voice. "It is too dangerous."

Vincent stare felt like it was boring into his very soul and it was starting to make Vilkas uncomfortable. Vincent was clearly sizing him up and he'd be lying if he wasn't doing the exact same thing. After a long moment, Vincent breathed out and aggravated sound and threw his hands up in defeat. "You're a damn hypocrite."

Vilkas' eyes widened for a moment. "What are you going on about, mage?"

"Never mind." Vincent waved him off. "Since we are referring to each other in titles now, Knight, I'm done talking to you. I'm getting out of this damn heat now. Bye."

Vilkas had the urge to grip his wrist and pull him back but he just let him go. If he demanded answers, he was sure he'd just be ignored. The thought of that made him even more angry so it was best to just let Vincent go. What did he mean by calling him a hypocrite, though…? Vilkas sure as hell didn't use magic…

Farkas put a hand on Vilkas' shoulder and shook him slightly to get his attention. "What?"

"If you were glaring at Vincent any harder, he'd be on fire."

Vilkas snorted and watched the redhead fully retreat inside of Jorrvaskr. He lamented the loss of that fiery scent for only a moment. Once the door slammed shut, he turned to face Farkas. "I'd have no complaints if he did."

"Vilkas…We have a serious problem." The tone of Farkas' voice made him tense.

"What happened?"

Farkas leaned in but hesitated. Vilkas guessed that Farkas wasn't sure how to say what he was about to say. He really wished he'd just spit it out already."He knows…brother."

"What?"

"Vincent. He knows…about us. About what we are."

Vilkas froze in place. _Well…shit._


	5. Even as I wander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Vilkas…We have a serious problem. Vincent. He knows…about us. About what we are."

\----  
\---  
\--

"Vilkas…We have a serious problem. Vincent. He knows…about us. About what we are."

_Well shit._

Vilkas grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged him into the under forge. This was bad! Very, very bad! Vilkas was silently panicking. He'd just had an argument with him too! What if he told everyone!? Ria may not mind but Athis and Torvar… they might not take it so well.

"How much does he know?"

Farkas sighed. "A lot."

"How much is a lot?"

"Calm down, Vilkas…"

"You fucking calm down!"

"I am calm, brother."

Vilkas shoved Farkas away and began pacing. He really shouldn't have but he needed to ground himself and Farkas was a something solid. "You shouldn't be! How much is a lot, Farkas!?"

"…everything."

Vilkas groaned and sank to his knees. He was starting to feel sick. How had this happened?! "E-everything?"

"Yes."

"How the hell did he find out?"

Farkas kneeled next to him and rubbed his brothers back soothingly. "Vincent and I went to Dustman's Cairn to get another piece of Ysgramor's blade. He found out there."

Vilkas held up a hand to stop him. "Start at the beginning…I need to know everything."

\-------  
The sun was just about ready to rise when Vincent came up to him. Farkas had slept, maybe about an hour or so but his beast blood forbade him a peaceful rest. He was seated in the chair in his room and looked up at the redhead in the doorframe.

"Vincent."

"Farkas." His smile was kind and without any type of hidden malice or intent behind it. He felt comfortable around him, almost like he was family. It was absurd, of course. He'd barely known Vincent for a few weeks now. 

Farkas smiled back, finding Vincent's infectious and gestured for him to come in. Vincent did so and slid atop the table to sit. He laughed as his feet dangled off the floor and even Farkas chuckled at his expense. It was funny having someone here that wasn't large in size. The smallest they had before Vincent was Athis, but even his feet touched the ground when he sat down in the high chairs. 

"Couldn't sleep Vincent?"

"I did sleep a little…" He confessed but then shook his head. "Nightmares. I didn't want to go back to sleep."

"Hmm… So what's up?"

"I passed Skjor in the hallway…he told me about a mission he wanted me to go on…and to ask you to be my shield brother."

"Ah, I see. So this isn't a personal call."

"Not that I would mind hanging around with you Farkas." Vincent kicked his feet idly against the wood and it reminded Farkas of a slightly hyper child. His words touched Farkas and that feeling on camaraderie, returned. It was startling at how well Vincent seemed to fit in with them. Only his brother and Nadia seemed immune to his charms, and Farkas secretly, wasn't so sure about where his brothers true affection for the red head lay. 

"Do you want to go now?"

Vincent bit his lip and contemplated for a moment. "Yeah, sure. The sun will be up soon right?"

"Yes, why?"

Vincent shrugged. "I hate the heat. My skin is really fair so I burn easily." Farkas started laughing and he watched the redhead scowl. How on Nirn could he not feel when his skin was about to burn? "It's true! I don't understand Skyrim. How can it be so hot and so cold here at the same time?"

"I assume there is a vast difference between High Rock and Skyrim."

"To say the least. High Rock is a beautiful place…With rolling lush farm lands and beautiful architecture. Not too hot or too cold like here. Everything in Skyrim smells like snow, steel and wolf shit."

"It does not!" Farkas still laughed.

"It does so." Vincent stuck his tongue out playfully. "Within the first few minutes of showing up here. I've been attacked by at least three packs of wolves!"

"So why did you leave?"

Vincent stopped laughing but a small uneasy smile stayed on his face. "We all have reasons for leaving the places we love."

"You can't say?"

"…Not yet. Not until I know I'll be safe."

The kidding was finished and even Farkas could see the seriousness of this situation. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"…"

"Vincent?"

"Not with the government if that's what you're thinking. I just…needed to get away. There was nothing left for me there so there was no reason to stay."

"Vincent…"

"Farkas." Vincent interrupted. "I…want to tell you but I just…can't. Not right now. I promise I'll tell you everything soon. Just…not right now. Okay?"

Farkas didn't like it one bit. He liked Vincent but he didn't want the red head to bring a potential danger to their doorstep. He still had his brother to look out for. "…okay."

"Good."

An awkward silence followed that moment. As much as Farkas wanted to know what kind of trouble Vincent might be in, he had to trust him. That's what being companions was all about right? Trusting your shield sibling with your very life. Well he needed to trust Vincent now…and later he knew Vincent would be able to trust him. He stood up and picked up his sword before slinging it on his back.

"Should we go then?"

"Yes. Good idea."

 

They began their trek, northwest of Whiterun, over small lakes and lush greenery. Farkas had to stop and wait a few times as Vincent picked up glowing nirnroot and mountain flowers.

"You're an alchemist too then?"

Vincent smiled as he picked up some purple mountain flowers and set them into his apothecary satchel at his belt. "I have some talent for it."

"That's a good thing to know. Do you not know healing magic?"

Vincent dusted himself off and walked back over to Farkas. "There are some things that cannot be healed by magic. Sometimes, Alchemy is necessary to keep you alive."

Farkas decided not to ask, although he assumed Vincent knew from experience. Their new friend kept getting stranger and stranger by the moment. There seemed to be a lot more to Vincent Renalt than any of them expected.  "Ready then? We're almost there."

"Yes. Ready."

They walked onward in relative silence until they came upon the burial mound.

"Here we are."

Vincent's nose wrinkled. "It smells like decay in there."

"There are probably Draugr."

"Great." The red head sighed and reached into his coat to pull out his ebony mace.

"You have the skill to use that?" He'd seen Vincent use it in practice against Vilkas, but not in any practical combat. 

Vincent nodded. "Some. I'm not the best with it but I was trained in the use of one-handed weaponry."

"Why don't you use magic?"

Vincent looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow. "That's allowed?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Your brother made it quite clear that my magic was not welcome."

Oh Vilkas…Farkas sighed and shook his head. "Your magic is welcome…at least to me. Vilkas really needs to learn not all mages are bad."

"Bad experience for him, I take it."

"For both of us." Farkas corrected. "But I've learned to let things go."

"…I see." He put his ebony mace away and looked off into the slightly pink sky. "Alright then."

Farkas looked at the sky too. "Have you seen a sun rise in Skyrim before?"

"No." Vincent admitted.

"You anit seen nothing yet, then. We can stay a moment longer if you want to see it. It'll be only another half hour or so."

Vincent shook his head. "If you don't mind, I'd rather just get this done. The walking dead make me uneasy."

"Is this going to be a problem?"

"No. Killing them is no problem. Those things walking around makes me uneasy."

"The dead should stay dead. Right?"

A fierceness came to his features. "Right."

"Let's go then." Farkas turned away from the sun rise to descend down the stone steps and into the burial mound. Vincent followed after and helped him pry open the stone doors. Farkas instantly noticed something."Someone has been here recently."

Vincent blinked. "What?"

"Look here." he pointed to marks on the door. "Someone pried these open before us and judging by the marks, it hasn't been too long. Maybe two days at the longest."

"Tomb raiders?"

"Possibly. Best be on our guard. We may not find just the undead inside."

"Or more of them depending on how good they did."

Farkas chuckled and pulled the door open more. "After you."

Vincent's confidence returned. He smiled, kindly. "Such a gentlemen. Thank you."

After Vincent was clear, Farkas followed and made sure to shut the door behind them. He didn't want any undead getting out into the open world.

"Ugh! It reeks in here!" Vincent complained and waved a hand in front of his face.

"That's the smell of the dead."

"I know what dead things smell like but that is just foul!"

"It's ancient rotting dead. Worse then regular dead."

"I guess so." Vincent held up a hand and whispered a word under his breath. With a flash of light and the tingling of a feeling of magic being cast, he held a see through battle axe in his hand.

"…that's…interesting."

"In a bad way?"

"No. It's good to always have a weapon handy. It's useful."

Vincent smiled again. "I'm glad you think so!"

Farkas pulled out his two handed sword and led them through the crypts. They came across a Draugr or two but it was nothing the two of them couldn't easily dispatch. Besides that magical axe, Farkas had yet to see Vincent cast anything.

"How much magic do you know?" he asked when they stopped for a brief rest.

Vincent, who was crotched down to pick some mushrooms, looked up questionably. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know other magic, besides the magic axe thingy?"

Vincent laughed. "Thingy, Hun?"

"Don't make fun of me." Farkas smiled back. "I'm not a clever man. That's my brother."

"You seem to have more sense then he does." Vincent tucked the mushrooms away and leaned against the wall slightly. Farkas almost cringed. His brother could be very set in his ways and he was almost embarrassed at how Vilkas had treated Vincent. "To answer your question, I know all the schools of magic. Some more then the others. I'd been learning for a long time now."

Time to get some answers, and maybe confirm something he'd observed over these few weeks since meeting Vincent. "You argue with my brother a lot, hun?"

"Only every time we see each other."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Vincent shrugged and sounding slightly annoyed. "He hates me, I guess."

"He doesn't hate you."

"Oh yeah?" Vincent didn't sound like he believed him.

"I've seen Vilkas hate people and he doesn't have that same look when he looks at you." He remembered Vilkas slamming his fist into a disrespectful whelp who stepped out of line and leaving him bloody on the floor. He'd seen Vilkas lash out in anger at anyone who didn't show them respect. Vilkas' anger toward Vincent was clearly diffrent. He hadn't been forbidden from challenging Vincent to any sort of fight, but he hadn't. That wasn't like Vilkas. There was something else to this. Something that Farkas had only seen a few times before. 

There was a moment of silence from the mage before Vincent's eyes softened slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah. If anything, he really likes you."

"I doubt that."

"He's always the meanest to the people he likes the most." Farkas smiled when he noted the small blush that had formed its way onto Vincent's face. So that's how it was…

"I…still doubt that. He hates magic…and as long as I rely on it, he'll dislike me."

"He'll come around soon enough. Although, I secretly think that Vilkas likes arguing." He decided to spill the beans a little bit. He was sure Vilkas would forgive him. "He always argued with his boyfriends."

There was another long pause and Vincent wore an unreadable mask that Farkas couldn't see past. "He's gay?"

"Not completely. He likes girls too, but I've mostly seen him drawn to men." He saw Vincent shift uncomfortably and thought for a moment he may have made a mistake. "Does that bother you?"

"N-no. It doesn't. I'm…just pretty sure your brother will be mad that you told me this."

"Probably." Farkas smiled and shrugged. "Does it matter though? We're not going to tell him right?"

Vincent smiled. still a bit uneasy. "Right." Sorry Vilkas. 

"So…Vincent… Do you…like Vilkas?"

Vincent opened his mouth to answer him but a loud crash from the next room stopped them. They looked at each other and instantly drew weapons. Vincent pulled out the mace to be quieter as they silently entered the chamber to find the source of the disturbance.

A small rat, (not a Skeever, thank the nine) had knocked over a small urn and bolted under a door as they entered. Vincent sighed in relief and put his mace away. He walked over to a locked gate and ran his gloved hand along the bars. "There must be a way to open this. This is the way we're supposed to go right?"

"Yeah. Look around. There must be a switch somewhere."

Vincent nodded and started to look around the walls. There was a raised gate in the corner and a lever rested against the wall.

"Hey Farkas. I think I found it! Tell me if the gate rises." Vincent spoke as he walked up to the switch and gave it a pull. Instantly the bars slammed down, trapping him inside. Well that wasn't good.

"Look what you did now." Farkas chuckled at the trapped redhead.

Vincent huffed and folded his arms. "Real funny, Farkas. Just find the release."

"Well, the gate is up; maybe the release is on the other s-" Farkas stopped when he saw five figures approaching with silver swords drawn. _Oh shit._

"Farkas…What's going on?"

"Shh. Stay quiet."Vincent opened his mouth to argue with him but the glare Farkas gave him, thankfully kept him silent.

"Well look here! It's one of them!" one of them yelled, holding up the silver sword threateningly and surrounding Farkas. Farkas' back pressed up against the bars of Vincent's cell and he growled softly. This was very, not good. "Who's the Breton? Is he one of them?"

"Who cares? They're together so we'll deal with him after we deal with this monster!"

"Back off!" Farkas yelled. Vincent reached a hand through the bars and laid it on Farkas' shoulder. "Stay put Vincent…don't try to break out until I let you out. Okay?"

"Farkas…what-"

"Just trust me Vincent!"

He had no choice…Surrounded as he was, he didn't stand a chance. Even if he fell, the silver hand wouldn't be content with just him…they'd murder Vincent even though he had nothing to do with the circle. He had to risk this…and he just prayed that Vincent would be understanding once it was all over.

As they closed in, he let out a guttural growl and released to the beast. He heard the members of the silver hand yell as his bones popped into place and his human features turned much more wolfish. He almost felt at home like this. He'd always been more a peace with his wolf than Vilkas and his own hardly gave him any trouble. The happy how; he released felt good as his transformation was complete. He felt Vincent's gloved hand retreat as if he was burned and he stumbled back to the wall.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

The first member of the silver hand swung at him and he completely surrendered to the beast. In a fury of fangs, claws, and fur, the silver hand lay broken and mangled at his feet. He had relished in their fear and their blood, and his beast was thoroughly stated. He could hear Vincent's rapid breathing behind him and he didn't dare turn to face the mage. He just ran through the now raised gate and transformed back into his normal self.

He really didn't want to think about dealing with Vincent if he refused to accept this. His mind knew what he had to do but he wasn't sure he would actually be able to carry out the sentence. Vincent would have to die and as much as the thought saddened Farkas, he would do what he had to in order to protect the members of his circle and his brother. He'd do whatever he could to protect Vilkas and no one, not even a new friend, would compromise that. He pulled the lever at his side and heard the gate to Vincent's cell open. Please…don't run Vincent.

As he walked into the next chamber he found Vincent standing in the middle of the mangled bodies, looking down at the carnage with a blank unreadable expression.

"Vincent…"

"What the fuck…was that, Farkas…?"

"Which part?"

"Every part! You're a werewolf?!"

"…yes."

Vincent put a hand to his head and rubbed his temples. "Do the companions know?"

"…Vincent…Listen to me carefully okay? I need you to not freak out or run away…and what I'm about to tell you can never leave this room. Okay?"

Vincent looked around at all the dead and then back up at Farkas. "You'd kill me if I said otherwise. Right?"

"I wouldn't want to."

Vincent sighed and stepped around the corpses and slightly closer to Farkas. "Speak then."

"The whole Circle and the Harbinger…we're all gifted with the blood of the beast."

"Gifted?" Vincent scowled. "You're all Werewolves?"

"Yes."

"And the others…?"

"They have no idea." Farkas spoke in a low voice. "And-"

"And you'd like to keep it that way." Vincent finished for him and nodded. "So Aela…Skjor…Kodlak…you and Vilkas…you're all…."

"Yes."

"I see."

"Do you hate me now?"

Vincent looked up sadly at him and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. "No. No Farkas…this doesn't change a thing between us. It's just…a lot to take in."

Relief flooded into Farkas like a wave. "So…you'll stay with us? You won't tell anyone?"

"I won't tell, Farkas." He nodded.

"I…am surprised you're taking this so well."

"We all have secrets, Farkas." he smiled kindly. "Some are just a little darker…or should I say harrier then others."

They both shared a laugh and most of the tension in the room seemed to ebb away. He couldn't have been freaking out too badly if he could make a joke like that to a werewolf. He wondered what Vincent could be hiding though. It made him nervous. "Should we continue?"

"Yes." Vincent nodded. "We did come here for a reason after all." As they walked through the gate, Vincent took another look behind them. "Those people…did they know?"

"Yes. They are called the silver hand. They do not know who exactly in the companions are gifted with the beast blood, so they'll just try to kill all of us."

"So they are werewolf hunters?"

"Mostly yes. I hear they also hunt undead, vampires and the like. Mostly werewolves though."

"Are they all bad people?"

"I don't know. That's like asking are all werewolves good people. Not all of us are, Vincent. I can promise you that all the members of the circle would never harm you though. We can control the beast. Some poor fools can't though."

"Okay. I trust you, Farkas."

Farkas smiled broadly and ruffled the mages hair. "You don't know how glad I am to hear that."

Vincent shoved his hand away. "Come on big guy…Don't go soft on me now. We're not even done yet!"

"Right. Let's get going then."

\--------  
"We fought more members of the silver hand, some Draugr, huge ass spiders…" Farkas shuttered at that last part, "…got the piece, and came back."

"That's all?"

Farkas hesitated for a moment; Not long enough for Vilkas to catch but just long enough to make up his mind. "Yes."

To his relief, Vilkas continued on. "Did you have to tell him all that stuff about my boyfriends?"

"Why not? I think he likes you."

Vilkas scowled but his cheeks turned just the slightest shade of red. "Because it's embarrassing and I don't give a damn if he likes me or not. I don't like him! Not even in the slightest."

"…." Farkas gave him a look that clearly showed that he thought Vilkas was lying. He was right, unfortunately… But Farkas knew that Vilkas wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting he felt…something. He waved Farkas off instead of denying or confirming, and leaned up against the stone wall of the under forge.

"I don't like him knowing, Farkas."

"Well, that's too bad. He knows. Go talk to him if it makes you so uneasy."

"We just argued. I hardly doubt he'll want to talk to me."

"Try anyway."

Vilkas glared at his brother but Farkas seemed unfazed. "He hates me."

"No, he doesn't."

"How do you know this?"

"Weren't you listening?" Farkas sighed. "We spoke about you. He doesn't hate you. He just thinks your being a bit ignorant with the idea of magic."

"I'm being ignorant?" Vilkas shot up from the wall. "Need I remind you what magic almost did to us? What it did to Jergen?"

"I remember brother…but you cannot blame every magic user for the actions of others." He saw Vilkas' rage deflate and he walked over to rub his brothers' shoulder in a soothing manner. "Vincent is a mage…nothing will ever change that. He has decided to make good use of his power to aid the companions. We have more pieces of the blade then we have ever had and with Vincent around I'm sure more will come to us in time. He's a powerful ally to have, Vilkas and he's a good guy. I'd trust him with my life…so should you."

Vilkas sighed. "I…guess you're right."

Farkas smiled. "Of course I am. I may be stupid but I have good sense sometimes."

"If this was anyone else other then you or Kodlak telling me this…"

"Yes, I know…You wouldn't believe them." He took his brother by the shoulders. "Go talk to him, Vilkas. Just keep magic out of the conversation. I think you'll find that you like him like I do." And probably more…But Farkas decided not to add that. He could see the sparks of attraction between them and he'd done all he could to ignite it. Now it was up to them.

"Okay." He pulled away and sighed. "I'll go talk to him. Soon though…not right now. I need time to think about what I'm going to say."

"Good. That's fine."Farkas watched Vilkas leave and suddenly felt his gut twist in guilt. He hadn't told his brother everything but he could hear Vincent begging him in his head.

_"You can tell Kodlak, Farkas…but please…please don't tell Vilkas. I don't want him to find out this way. Promise me, Farkas. Please promise me…"_

_"I promise."_

Farkas sighed and kicked a loose stone. Nothing good could come of this…But he had to respect his new found friends wish. He just hoped it was worth it.

\-----  
Two weeks passed. Vilkas was not avoiding Vincent per say, but whenever he tried to speak with the mage he was surrounded by other members of the companions and Vilkas figured this conversation should be private. He was also slightly wary of the way Torvar followed Vincent around. They seemed to be friends on Vincent's end but Torvar's body language told a different story. Vilkas tried to fight down a feeling of…jealousy? Possessiveness? He wasn't quite sure, but he disliked it.

He'd notice that whenever they saw each other the redhead's eyes would be on him. Vilkas found himself wanting to talk to him…even if it was just to insult his magic and get a rise out of the other man. All of these thoughts confused Vilkas, and kept him from saying anything.

Finally Torvar was sent out with Athis, and Ria and Njada were also sent out. Farkas, who had been waiting for Vilkas to man up and talk to Vincent, promised to keep the other members of the circle away so he could have some private time with him.

It was mid afternoon when Vilkas walked into the living quarters and was about to call out for Vincent, but hear raspy coughing instead. His heart stilled at the sound and he suddenly thought of his dream. The sight of Vincent gagging on his own blood, dying in his arms…that helplessness that he felt as he listened to all the breath raggedly leave the mage…That cough sounded as Vilkas grabbed hold of the doorframe and peeked around in time to see Vincent sitting on the bed he had selected for himself. He was still coughing but digging through his knapsack. Vilkas watched him pull out a strange, red bottle and uncap it. He watched Vincent down the contents with a grimace, and his coughing die down. Was Vincent sick or something? He pulled his head out of the room and waited a moment for Vincent to settle. He decided to keep this knowlage to himself for now.

He waited a minute or two more, then decided to try and get his attention.

"Vincent?"

He heard Vincent go still in the other room and waited for a response. "Vilkas?"

That was his cue. He walked inside and walked over to the mage. He noted that Vincent had set aside his knapsack and the little red bottle was no where in sight. He stood awkwardly by his bed, just looking down at him. He wasn't even sure where to start. He didn't know why he felt so nervous…

"Yes?" The redhead asked, clearly just as unnerved by the silence.  "What is it, Vilkas?"

"I…well…You see…" He wasn't sure how to start this, and he wished he had practiced what he was going to say.

The redhead blinked. "Do…you want to sit down?" He patted the area next to him.

"..Aye. Thank you." Vilkas took the seat awkwardly and stared at his own hands.

After a long awkward silence between them, Vincent laid a hand on his shoulder. The touch was so gentle it almost made Vilkas jump in surprise. He looked at the leather clad hand and then back up at the mage. He didn't hate the touch, but Vincent must have thought he did, because he pulled his hand away quickly and looked away.

"Is…something wrong, Vilkas?"

"No…Aye…" He sighed. "I don't know."

"If you have a problem, I'm sure your brother would be better company then me…"

"This is about you, so I doubt it."

The mage's expression was unreadable for a moment but Vilkas caught the slightest glint of fear in his eyes. "W-well…what is it?"

"Farkas told me about your mission to Dustman's cairn."

"H-he did?"

"Aye…Now that we have time to be alone, I'd like to speak to you about it."

Vincent bit his lip nervously and Vilkas found his eyes drawn to it. He felt that spike of heat, coil down spine and into his gut, becoming pleasantly warm. His mind raced with possibilities for a moment before he cast them aside. He quickly looked away before Vincent caught him.

"Okay. Go ahead."

"I…" Vilkas stopped for a moment. "I just need to know that you've kept the secret."

Vincent looked up surprised and slightly relived. "Ah. So that's what this is about."

"Aye."

"What makes you think I've told anyone?" A small cocky smile came to his lips and it made Vilkas scowl. Back to this. 

"Because you seem quite buddy, buddy with Torvar."

"Oh please." The redhead tossed up a dismissive hand. "He's a good drinking mate but I wouldn't tell him anything personal."

"Oh really?"

"Really. It's not like he knows everything about me. We're not that friendly."

"What does that mean?" Vilkas raised an eyebrow.

"It means he doesn't know the color of my underclothes or anything." He stuck out his tongue playfully.

Vilkas was taken aback. Did he really just say that? He felt that stirring in his gut again. His brain told him it was possessiveness, but Vincent did not belong to him, so he had nothing to be possessive about. Maybe after that dream he just felt protective of Vincent. Even if he was just a dirty Breton mage…Before he could stop himself he growled out a "And he shouldn't know." Why on Nirn did he just say that? 

Vincent's smile turned coy and Vilkas cursed himself silently."You sound Jealous, Vilkas." There was a playful edge to his voice that Vilkas wasn't sure he liked.

"Of Torvar? Please. Like I care who you're friendly with."

"You sound like you care."

"Well, I don't."

"I guess your brother was right…"

Vilkas looked over in time to see Vincent scoot a bit closer. He almost recoiled but refused to back down. He stood his ground and greeted the redhead's sudden closeness with a scowl. That smell invaded his senses again, making him want to lean in closer and smell him directly at the source. Addicting, hypontizing, fire.  "About?"

"Nothing." Vincent placed a hand back on Vilkas' shoulder and did not pull it away this time. Vilkas tried not to shiver and resisted the urge to close the distance. "I'm really friendly with your brother too."

"I'm not worried about Farkas."

"Aw. I wanted to hear you growl like that again."

Vilkas felt his gut twist in knots and his heart hammer in his chest. Were…they flirting? He shoved the hand off his shoulder and glanced up at Vincent to gauge his reaction. To his dismay, the coy smile stayed but he kept his hands to himself.

"I just need to know if you've kept the secret."

"I have." Vincent tilted his head to the side. He was close enough to touch, close enough to simply lean in and breathe in his scent at his pulse point. Vilkas held himself back, a soft growling echoing from deep inside. It seemed so loud to Vilkas but Vincent didn't hear it. "I promised your brother that I'd never tell anyone."

"Good. Thank you." He breathed in deep, taking in more of the scent, unwillingly and figured he should probably go now…but something kept him there. Vincent wasn't touching him and there wasn't anything physically keeping him here but he found himself unwilling to move. He wanted to stay and the revelation, scared him slightly. How had this changed so fast? When did he lose control?

"Are you going to apologize for yelling at me about my magic?" Vincent gained Vilkas' attention. Well so much for staying off the subject.

"I did not yell."

"Talked with extreme amounts of distain then."

Vilkas huffed. "No. I will not apologize for something I believe in."

"Ah. How noble of you."

He felt like he was being mocked but fought himself not to lash out. They were having a normal conversation too. Why did it always come down to this?

"Can we drop this, please?" He asked with some added irritation to his voice.He'd of been perfectly content to just sit here in silence and take in Vincent's scent in peace. 

"Should we? I believe it is something that needs to be discussed. I use magic and you hate it and if we are to co-exist we need to come to some sort of consensus."

"I am trying to be nice, mage." He hissed angrily, but barley keeping his temper in check.

"I kind of like it when we argue." Vincent spoke out of the blue.

That took the wind right out of Vilkas' sails. "What?"

"You get fiery and passionate when you argue with me. I'm different and everyone here...well except for maybe Njada…has just accepted me. She just ignores me and doesn't fight with me…but you…You fight me every step of the way." he admitted with a soft smile.

"You like it when we fight?" Vilkas spoke like he couldn't believe it.

Vincent shrugged. "When we fight you get my blood pumping. I like the adrenaline I get from fighting with you."

Vilkas didn't want to admit it but he felt the same. He got a rise out of arguing with Vincent…almost to the point where he wanted to willingly seek him out to start one. That couldn't be healthy for either of them. He knew this stirring feeling that his gut was currently doing. As much as he hated magic…he found himself attracted to the mage. Damn it, Farkas was right. Gods, help him if he'd ever admit it though. He needed to be sure though…and he had a good way of testing it."I have a mission to go on tomorrow. I was going to ask Farkas to come with me but I want you to come instead."

"Oh?"

"Aye. There may be trouble and I'd like to see you on the field of action."

Vincent looked intrigued. "I see."

"Well…?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"None." Vilkas spoke firmly. "I will see you tomorrow."

Vincent chuckled. "Okay."

"And…" Vilkas sighed and lowered his head. "Thank you…for not telling anymore. I apologize for how I have treated you…"

To his surprise, Vincent leaned in before he could stop him and spoke softly in his ear. "Don't apologize, Vilkas. It doesn't suit you."

The smell of burning leaves invaded his senses again, stronger than it had ever been. He raised a hand as if to run it through Vincent's hair but the mage pulled back and away from him before he had the chance. Vilkas almost felt his cheeks burn at the action. He had wanted to grab a hand full of that hair and pull until that pale neck was exposed....then he'd... Vilkas lowered his hand back to his side, lamely and sat up. His fists clenched at his side at the thought. What the hell was wrong with him!?

"Alright…bye."

He waited until Vincent gave a short wave goodbye before he retreated completely. He couldn't help but notice that Vincent looked slightly disappointed and he wasn't the only one. His inner wolf snarled as he retreated and almost demanded he go back. He pushed the urge of the beast aside and went to his room. He wouldn't give in to the beast. Not now…or ever again.


	6. Can't fight this feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas' head swirled around to the doorway, ready to give his brother an explanation to why Vincent was kneeled between his legs.

\----  
\---  
\--  
Vilkas awoke suddenly in a cold sweat. It took him a moment to catch his breath and realize that he was no longer dreaming. His heart was thudding quickly in his chest and his pulse raced. He could hear his wolf howling in fury and screaming in frustration. He tried putting his hands to his ears to block out the noise but that was in vain. Those howls came from his very soul and he could never unhear them.

He let out a ragged sigh, curling into a ball, and waited for the wolf to calm itself. It eventually always settled down but it took much longer this time. The wolf's aggression was starting to take a toll of Vilkas' body and willpower. He had promised himself and Kodlak that he would hold the wolf at bay for his own soul's safety but it was getting harder with each passing night.

He had had the same nightmare. Vincent died in his arms again and some unknown magic caster smote Vilkas. The wolf seemed extremely displeased by this nightmare and Vilkas could not put his finger on exactly why. Possibly, because when Vilkas died in the dream, the wolf saw it as weakness? Or maybe it had to do with Vincent's death. Yesterday when he had retreated from Vincent's living area, his beast had howled in displeasure for hours. It had wanted Vilkas to march back in there and claim the mage.

That was not happening. _No. Fucking. Way._ He was attracted to Vincent, he'd admit that to himself but he didn't see that attraction going anywhere. 

It was possible that his wolf had pent up aggression. Without being released to hunt and the lack of a mate, his wolf had become anxious. It had been awhile since Vilkas lay with a man or woman. Three years at least. Not because he did not want to per say, just that he had not felt the need to. He wasn't attracted to any of the wealp's or members of the circle and he defiantly wasn't interested in the harbinger. They didn't get too much traffic in Jorrvaskr and when they did, it was usually some idiot that got themselves killed within the fortnight. But Vincent….he was different.

Vilkas groaned as the wolf decided to fill his head with rather lude images of Vincent and hid his face into his bent legs. He felt bad thinking such things about someone who was practically a stranger. He didn't know anything about Vincent really. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He should get up and…oh shit. His eyes widened slightly as he remembered promising to take Vincent on the mission he was to go on today. He was just a sucker for punishment it seemed.

He slid his legs over the side of his bed and got up. He might as well get ready for the day and figure out how to approach Vincent. When dressed, he applied his war paint and slung his sword on his back. He needed to talk to Vincent at least…maybe learn more about him. If he did know more…maybe, he wouldn't feel so bad about being so attracted to him.

When he left his room, he almost slammed into Aela and Skjor who were walking toward the harbinger's room and talking.

"Oh, Vilkas!" Skjor spoke and put an arm around his shoulders. Vilkas could tell this already wasn't going to end pleasant. "Aela and I were having a discussion and perhaps you could offer us some insight."

"Okay…What about?"

Skjor smiled at Aela and she smiled back. Something in the way they smiled made Vilkas nervous but he decided not to raise concern.

"Well, you see Vilkas…" Skjor began "…our circle is strong. Very strong-"

"And we plan to make it stronger." Aela interrupted.

"Okay…so what is it you need my input on?" Vilkas asked, not liking where this conversation was going.

"We're thinking about adding a new member to the circle." Aela finished with a grin.

"And we have no magic currently in the circle of profound use, anyway…"

Oh no.

"…and we were thinking…"

No.

"…that maybe we should…"

No. No. No.

"..Add Vincent as a member."

HELL FUCKING **NO.**

When Skjor finished talking Vilkas, swat his arm off and glowered at the two of them. They seemed honestly surprised by the action, apparently not knowing how much this upset Vilkas.

"NO."

"But Vilkas-" Aela started but Vilkas cut her off.

"NO!" he slammed his fist against the wall and practically snarled at them. "NO! This will NOT be happening!"

Skjor sighed. "Vilkas, we understand."

"No, you don't!"

"We do, Vilkas." Skjor tried to reach out and touch his shoulder but Vilkas swatted it away. Skjor regarded the younger man with his one good eye. "We understand your dislike of magic but Vincent's magic would be a great asset to the circle and the glory of the companions. He's strong. Stronger then the other whelps."

"I said, no." Vilkas spoke through clenched teeth, trying to regain his temper.

"Don't be unreasonable, Vilkas." Aela scowled. "Magic isn't all that bad."

"This isn't about his fucking magic!"

That took them both aback. They could have sworn if Vilkas had any objection, it would have been to the fact that Vincent was a mage. His shouting got Kodlak's attention because the old man appeared in the doorway to the hallway.

"What's all the yelling about?"

"Vilkas is against the idea of letting Vincent into the circle." Aela clarified for the old man.

"I see…is this true, Vilkas?"

"It is." His mouth was set in a thin firm line and he wouldn't budge on it. "Vincent won't be a member of the circle…not if I have anything to say about it."

"All because he's a mage?" Aela glared at Vilkas and folded her hands in front of her.

"I said no!" Vilkas glared back. "This has nothing to do with his goddamned magic!"

"So, what is the problem then Vilkas? Enlighten us." Skjor interjected before the two were at each other's throats.

Vilkas took a deep sigh and a glance in Kodlak's direction. The old man was leaning against the doorframe, starring right back at Vilkas and waiting for his response. Those eyes said that they would not judge him when he spoke what was in his heart. So he did.

"I will not condemn him."

"What?" Skjor asked.

"I will not condemn him to being like us! To be a member of the circle he would have to be like us! I will not allow it!"

"Condemn?" Aela huffed. "It is a gift, not a curse Vilkas. You'd be wise to remember that."

"It's not a curse to you or to Skjor! To my brother, to Kodlak and to me…it's a curse. I will not let that curse fall on Vincent!" He couldn't bare the thought of that lithe body curled up in pain as the first transformation took him. 

"You don't really have a choice in the matter." Aela smiled a bit smug. "That choice is for Vincent. He can choose to be what we are and accept the gift."

"He wont." Vilkas glowered.

"Oh, so now you speak for him too? Last I checked you didn't own the mage. I'm sure he has his own opinion."

"That's true." Skjor sighed. "I spoke to Farkas about this and he told me Vincent seemed unbothered by the fact. Farkas said he was surprised when he found out but accepting. I too, have talked to Vincent over these past weeks and he seems interested in joining the circle."

"Did you tell him he'd have to be like us?" Vilkas turned his gaze from Aela to Skjor.

"…no."

"I'm sure his tone would have changed."

"I'm not so sure, Vilkas." Skjor sighed, obviously disliking the argument. "I've stayed up countless nights with Vincent, just talking to him. He's a good kid and full of promise."

Vilkas felt that burning sensation in his gut again and his gaze hardened on Skjor. "You…stayed up at night to talk to him?"

"Yes. On more then one occasion. The boy has lots of questions about the companions, our history and of Skyrim in general. I told him he'd be better off talking with you about our history." He smiled fondly. "I've grown rather attached to him."

"Awww. Skjor. You're getting soft." Aela mocked playfully and swatted him on the shoulder.

Vilkas was not listening to her though. His gut burned horribly and for a moment he thought about ripping into Skjor's good eye. His hands clenched and unclenched at his side as horrible thoughts of maiming a good friend of his entered his head. He bit his lip. Hard. Then shook his head. How could he even think about such a thing? He knew the feeling in his gut was jealousy but to kill over it…? His wolf's feelings were starting to mingle with his own…This wasn't good.

"Unfortunately…" Kodlak spoke, getting everyone's attention. "…The choice is up to Vincent. I am sorry Vilkas. If he wishes to take upon the curse of Hircine, then we can do nothing to stop him…"

Aela put back on a smug smile, much like a child who had gotten their way. "You see."

Vilkas pushed past them and stormed down the hallway. Aela shrugged at Skjor and went into her room. Skjor looked to the harbinger and gave a curt nod, before he too retreated to his room. Kodlak stared after Vilkas and sighed. The poor lad was just too fiery for his own good.

Vilkas found Vincent outside in the courtyard. It was midday already and the sun was shining brightly. A gentle yet chill breeze was all around them, making today the perfect kind of day. Vincent was sitting under the overhang in the shade, reading. Farkas was near by him, swinging his two handed sword at the poor practice dummy. To his relief, Torvar was nowhere to be found. Last thing he needed was that man hanging around Vincent. His jealousy had already been at an all time high today and the appearance of Torvar would just make it worse.

Vilkas took a deep breath, silently asked himself why he felt so nervous and then walked over to the redhead. He awkwardly sat down and glanced at his lap. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Vincent's lips curve up into a smile.

"So, what are you reading?" Vilkas began lamely.

"Horrors of Castle Xyr."

Vilkas looked up at him and saw the redhead had turned his attention from the book to Vilkas entirely. "That sounds horrible."

"It's a play."

"Sounds like a bad play."

"I hear it's popular in Morrowind."

"That would explain a few things."

Vincent shut the book and set it aside. He gazed at Vilkas for a long moment before speaking. "What's wrong Vilkas?"

"…Nothing."

Vincent rested his hand on Vilkas' shoulder and leaned in again. "You can tell me."

That smell instantly assaulted Vilkas and he shivered as he heard his inner wolf growl in approval. He shrugged Vincent's hand off him and stood up quickly. He ignored the questioning look the mage gave him. "We have a mission to do today. Are you ready to go?"

Vincent nodded, still looking confused and stood up. "Yes, I have everything I need. I even made some crème for my face so it wouldn't burn."

Vilkas' brain derailed for a moment. "What?"

Vincent huffed and dug around inside of his coat for a moment before pulling out a small vial. "I made this today. It will keep my skin from burning."

"You're worried about your skin burning..?"

The mage pouted. "Yes. My skin is really fair. If I stay out in the bleeding hot sun all day, my face will be as red as my hair by the end!"

"So you would look like a tomato."

"…."

Vilkas couldn't help but laugh at the mental image. "Wow."

"That's not funny."

"Yes it is!" Farkas called out as he set his sword down. He joined his brother in laughing.

"Oh, you are both horrible." Vincent shook his head and put the vial away. "Well I won't give you the satisfaction of watching me put it on because I already did it." He stuck out his tongue. "Let's go then."

After waving goodbye to Farkas, they set out on the road. Vilkas knew the way so he was leading and Vincent was close behind him. Sometimes he was a bit too close for Vilkas' comfort. Not that he was purposely trying to be close…the poor mage probably had no idea what Vilkas' inner thoughts were. Even though he still hated magic with every fiber of his being he couldn't hate Vincent no matter how hard he tried. Apathy would be the best way to drive the mage from his life but he found that harder to do with each passing day. Especially since Vincent admitted to _'like'_ fighting with Vilkas. That made everything much more complex and he wouldn't he able to drive Vincent away by fighting.

Then his selfish side didn't want to drive the mage away. That small part of him that told him he actually wanted this. A small piece that whispered how much he wanted to be with him…and how this wasn't just a fling. Vilkas did his best to bury that part of him, but with every smile and every gentle touch, that thought became more prominent, and Vilkas had to work extra hard to keep it from the light.

A hand on his arm snapped Vilkas out of thought and made him jump in surprise. Vincent looked up at him and smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me."

"Well, I was calling your name and I guess you didn't hear me. Do you mind if we stop for a moment? I would like to collect some of the plant life around here."

"Yes…sure…" He prayed Vincent let go of him soon. Even that slight touch was enough to light Vilkas' nerves on fire. It was by sheer willpower that he didn't tackle the pretty redhead into the grass near by. Though the thought became more and more tempting and he was sure that was due to the wolf's influence. Hold him down…claim him…mark him…

"Great! Thanks Vilkas." The redhead let go and walked into the grass and near a fallen tree to collect some of the bark and mushrooms growing on it.

Vilkas took this moment to mentally curse himself and his wolf. God damnit. Stop it, stop it, stop it! He took another moment to collect himself before walking over and sitting in the grass near Vincent, who was organizing what he had collected.

"So, where are we going Vilkas?" Vincent asked, not looking up from his ingredients. "You haven't told me yet."

"Oh." so he hadn't. He hadn't even thought about it. "We are going toward Riverwood. An escaped criminal from Falkreath has ran toward there and fallen in with some bandits. We are to kill him and be done with it."

"He's not going back to jail?"

"No. The employer said to just kill him. No pleading, no bargaining and no stalling. Just a quick death."

"What has the man done to deserve such a thing?"

Vilkas looked to Vincent, who had put his ingredients away and was now starring at Vilkas intently. "I don't know. I think they told me he was a murderer."

The answer seemed to satisfy the mage and he nodded. "Okay."

There was a pause between them. Neither looked away from the other. They just sat in the grass, facing one another and a moment of peace drifted in. It was obvious to Vilkas this was the perfect time to ask about him.

"Hey, Vincent…"

"Yes?"

"…" He couldn't believe he was doing this but… "Tell me about yourself."

"Me?" Vincent blinked. "Why?"

"I…want to get to know you better…as Skjor and Farkas do."

A small coy smile came to Vincent's lips and Vilkas instantly regretted this. Gods damn that smile.

"Someone sounds jealous."

"I'm not." Vilkas huffed. "I'm just asking a damn question."

"Yeah. Okay." Vincent didn't sound like he believed him. The little bastard.

"Fine. Don't answer me."

"Oh stop it Vilkas. I'll tell you." His smile turned from coy to genuine and Vilkas almost had to look away before he fell into the softness displayed in those copper orbs. Why was it suddenly so hard to look right at him…?

"Okay…go ahead then."

"Mmm… lets see." Vincent tapped his own chin with a leather-clad hand. "Well, I was born in High Rock…but I'm pretty sure you knew that. Right on the edge of the Iliac bay and a few hours away from Daggerfall. It was a fishing village and my father was the prominent fishermen there."

"What was your dad like?"

Vincent paused for a moment. "I...don't really remember. I was only five when he died of a fever sickness. He was born with it and struggled with it his whole life. I remember my mother telling me that he was very kind though."

"Oh."

"Before my father died, my mom gave birth to my little sister Grace. Grace was born with the same sickness father had and none of us expected her to make it." He smiled a bit fondly. "Grace was a fighter though. You would have liked her. She survived but that sickness was always with her, just as it was with father. The memories of father were always too fresh so my mother moved me and my sister to Daggerfall."

"Why did she do that?"

"Well, she loved my father. I'm sure the memories of that place she married him and gave birth to his children in must have been painful to her. So she bustled us into the big city with all the rest of the desperate peasantry."

"You were a peasant?"

Vincent laughed. "Is it hard to believe?"

"You don't dress like one."

"Well, with time came a change in living condition."

"Your mother did well then?"

"…no." Vincent clasped his hands in his lap but kept eye contact with Vilkas. "I was around thirteen when we found her dead."

Vilkas blinked for a moment at how casually Vincent had said that. "She died? How'd she die? The same sickness?" He was beginning to wonder if Vincent also had this sickness…

"No. She didn't have the sickness. We found her in the side ally near out house. She'd been murdered for the small amount of coin she had on her."

Vilkas wasn't sure how to react to this. Should he say sorry? He really didn't want to interrupt Vincent's story again… He still felt the need to ask though. "So you and your sister…?"

"We were alone, yes." He sighed. "The orphanage was already overflowing and I was thirteen and strong. I did odd jobs to keep me and my sister supported. She leaned to sew and cook and I took an interest in alchemy to keep her illness at bay." he stood up and dusted himself and his coat off. "We should go now."

"But…" Vilkas stood up too. "That's all?"

Vincent wore a blank expression for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"You said a change in living condition changed. How did you learn magic? Why did you come here?"

"…A noble from the city took us in and hired me as his servant. He taught me magic when he saw I had an affinity for it. Grace died when I was eighteen and I eventually left. That's it." The redhead's lips formed into a straight grim line and Vilkas decided he disliked that look on the mage.

"I'm sorry about your sister…You must have been close."

"As close as you and Farkas are."

"How did she die…? The sickness-"

"You know…" Vincent interrupted. "I really don't want to talk about this right now. Is that okay?"

"But I-"

"Vilkas." he snapped with a sudden anger that surprised Vilkas. "I don't want to talk about it. Okay?"

"okay. I'm sorry."

The anger faded from the redhead's face and voice. A smile came in place of it but Vilkas couldn't help but feel that it was fake. "I told you not to apologize. It's not like you."

"Right."

They resumed walking in silence. Vilkas didn't want to see that anger return to Vincent's face so he kept silent. He was more then content to not talk the entire way but Vincent had returned to his normal self and nudged Vilkas in the side.

"So, how about you?"

"How about me?"

"I told you about me…now tell me about you."

"Not much to say. You know most of it already. Jergen rescued me and my brother from a group of necromancers and brought us to live among the companions in Jorrvaskr."

"Necromancers, hun?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why you hate magic?"

"It's part of the reason."

"…I see. Continue then."

"Not much happened. I grew up, I learned to fight and Jergen was like a father to me. He died a few years back fighting brigands outside Dawn star." he grit his teeth for a moment. "He'd killed most of them…but the brigands had a mage. The mage finished him off."

"So you hate magic because of necromancers and brigand mages?"

"No." Vilkas stopped walking and turned to face Vincent. "I hate magic because people who have the power to wield it will always use it for their own benefit."

"What?" he saw the look of utter disbelief cross the redhead's face.

"Magic gives them an unfair advantage. Men who work hard their whole lives only to have their lively hood burned to the ground by some mage who has no idea how to use their power, is unfair. A man with magic will not hesitate to use it in order to get what he wants. Necromancy is all the proof needed."

"Not every mage is a necromancer." Vincent scowled. "Not all magic is evil."

"Yeah, well…it's taken almost everything from me."

Vincent's lips parted as if he was about to retort but the words sunk in and no sound came out. It seemed to take him a moment before he found his voice again. "You cannot blame every mage for the actions of a few. **THAT** isn't fair Vilkas. That would be like blaming every man who wielded a sword, as a bloodthirsty murderer!"

"Men who learn to fight with a blade are more honorable then a mage. They will turn and face an opponent instead of using spell craft to defeat them. It's nothing but base instinct and no unfair advantage."

"I cannot even believe you, Vilkas." Vincent shook his head. "I knew you hated magic but I did not expect you to be so close minded! YOU of ALL people!"

"What's that supposed to mean?! I think magic is unfair and I am entitled to my opinion, mage!"

"Oh, so you're calling me mage now? What happened to calling me by my name?"

"I-!" Vilkas growled in frustration. "I just don't like magic! You can use it if you want to but don't expect me to accept it! Magic has done nothing to me except destroy my life and spoiled everything it's ever touched!" The look on Vincent's face told Vilkas he had made a mistake. Panic gripped his lungs like a vice. He wasn't one for saying he was sorry but he scrambled to assume damage control. "Vincent I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." Vincent interrupted holding up a hand.

Vilkas grabbed the offending hand without even thinking and gave it a squeeze. "No. Listen."

"…."

Vilkas took a deep breath. "I didn't mean it…The subject makes me say things that I wouldn't normally say."

The redhead's look softened just slightly; Some of Vilkas' panic ebbing. "It's okay Vilkas…"

"No…It isn't. I have to take what I said back…because magic has touched you…and you're not spoiled."

He took a deep breath and a moment to realize he was still holding Vincent's hand. The redhead's eyes had softened completely and he looked up at Vilkas with an expression foreign to Vilkas. Vincent's sweet smell invaded his senses again as the mage stepped a bit closer. They were close enough that their chests were almost touching. His pulse raced as he reached his free hand out and cupped the side of Vincent's face. His wolf howled in triumph as he leaned in. He was one-step closer and the distance between their lips was fading. He had tried to fight his urge but just couldn't anymore.

Before he could connect his mouth to the mage's, he heard the whiz of something flying through the air and a sudden sharp pain in his shoulder and thigh. Vincent yelled and shoved away to call lighting to his hands.

"Bandits!"

Vilkas grit his teeth and bore the pain as he pulled his long sword free. Fucking cheep shot bastards! There were four of them and the one with the bow was their target!

"The archer is the target, Vincent!"

Vincent looked up and saw him. "Got it!" With a wave of his hand and the surging feeling of magic being cast he blasted a lighting bolt into the face of the bandit closest to him. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as the bandit gave out a pitiful yelp as his life ended almost instantly.

The display of power startled Vilkas. He knew Vincent must have been skilled with magic but to see it in action like that slightly unnerved him.

The bandit's retaliated, opening up attacks of their own. It seemed their target was not so good when the targets of his archery were moving. Arrows whipped by them harmlessly and fell somewhere off in the distance. It was still close enough to infuriate Vilkas as he clashed with a two handed fighter and easily overpowered him. He thrust the man's sword aside and buried his own deep into his collarbone. He wrenched his blade free and watched with satisfaction as his target crumbled into a broken, bloody heap.

He heard Vincent yelp and turned his attention in that direction on instant. He saw Vincent duck under another bandits mace swing and try to roll to the side. The thought of someone almost hurting Vincent seemed to instantly kick Vilkas into high gear. Vilkas snarled and charged the mace wielder who dared to swing at Vincent. Pure adrenaline had kicked in and he no longer felt the pain in his shoulder and thigh as he raked his long sword across the mace wielders back, leaving a deep angry gash. When the man screamed and whirled around, Vilkas' sword swung back across his neck. His head rolled somewhere off into the grass and his body fell to the side.

The target wasn't that stupid and decided to try to flee. Vincent got to his feet and quickly called more lighting to his hands. With a quick surge of magical force, he shot it at the retreating man's back. It struck him dead center and he toppled over into a smoking heap. Vincent seemed to wait a moment to make sure all the targets were dead before rushing to Vilkas' side.

"Oh, gods…you're hurt."

Vilkas managed to sling his sword back onto his back before cringing slightly. "It's fine."

Vincent broke off the ends of each arrow and sighed. "We need to get you back to Jorrvaskr so I can remove these properly. Come on." He slung one of Vilkas' arms over his shoulder and helped him limp all the way back to Whiterun.

"Guess the jobs done…" Vilkas muttered and allowed Vincent to help carry his weight.

"Yes…I guess so."

Vilkas barely noticed the transition of time and distance. The pain had numbed his brain and Vincent was so close. He smelt amazing and he found himself wanting to bury his nose into those red locks. He almost chuckled aloud at his own thoughts. Listen to him…sounding like a lovesick lass. Pain makes you think weird things.

It was almost dark by the time they made it back and Vincent had to shoulder check the front door to Jorrvaskr to open it.

"Hello?" Vincent called looking around the common room and helping Vilkas over the threshold. "Where the hell is everyone?"

Vilkas gave a weak shrug, only half listening anyway.

"Shit." Vincent struggled to get Vilkas inside and downstairs, into Vilkas' room. He sat the man on the bed and then got to work. "Of course no one is here when we need them…"

"I don't know where they are. It's unlike Tilma to not be around. Maybe they are all out in the courtyard?"

Vincent looked as if he was debating about leaving Vilkas to go find someone. However he stayed put and pulled off his leather gloves. "We need to get these arrows out."

Vilkas didn't process what was happening until he felt a hand on his shoulder. The touch was gentle and soothing and almost made him want to close his eyes. Then a sudden sharp pain ripped through his shoulder and he bit his lip to keep from screaming at the suddenness of the action.

He glared up at Vincent who held the offending arrow with a soft smile. Bastard.

"Ouch…"

"Oh don't be a baby." Vincent scoffed.

"Could have warned me…"

"Fast is the easiest way to do it. You would have tensed up if I told you I was about to pull."

Vilkas felt Vincent touch his wounded shoulder and with a quick tingling feeling he felt his wound begin to close. He almost reeled from the touch and glared up at Vincent again.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Vincent looked confused. "Healing you."

"With magic?"

Vincent scowled then. "Oh don't start, Vilkas. This is the easiest way to heal you and you'll also recover faster." he went to put his hands back on Vilkas' shoulder but Vilkas grabbed one of his wrists and held it aside.

"I'd rather have you use traditional means then-" Vilkas stopped as he eyed Vincent's hand. The front of his hand was smooth and flawless like the rest of his skin...but inside his palm the skin was scarred. It was an angry looking scar and covered the majority of his palm. He quickly grabbed Vincent's other wrist before he could hide it from view and upturned it to inspect it as well. The same mark marred that palm as well. "What happened to your hands?"

Vincent tried to pull his wrists away but it was in vain. Vilkas made sure he had a tight grip. He wasn't letting go until Vincent fessed up.

"Vilkas, let go-"

"Tell me."

"It was an accident." Vincent huffed. "I burnt them."

"How'd you manage that?"

"I grabbed something hot." He stated obviously. "Now let go."

Vilkas let go, seeing that he'd get no more personal information out of the mage and Vincent dropped his hands to his side. "Does it still hurt?"

"No. They are just…ugly."

"They're not that bad."

A long silence passed between them before Vincent sighed. "I'm going to go back to healing you now. Don't bitch about it being magic, just deal with it okay? I want you to get better."

"…fine."

Vincent didn't have much more to do at the shoulder. He put his hands back on it and the same tingling feeling happened. Vilkas cringed, still disliking the feeling of magic on his skin. Soon the pain in his shoulder was gone and the wound had closed fully. If Vilkas hadn't been to prideful he would have admitted how amazing that was. Magic was indeed amazing and could do all sorts of amazing things…but Vilkas still didn't want it touching him. It seemed that Vincent wouldn't relent however so it was best just to shut up and get it over with.

Then Vincent kneeled between his legs and almost made Vilkas jump a mile upward.

"What are you doing!"

"Healing you." Vincent answered putting a hand gently on Vilkas' thigh. That hand was way to close to Vilkas' crotch for his liking.

"You're not going to rip that one out too…are you?" He asked slightly flustered for more then one reason.

"I told you it's the quickest way."

"You're not ripping that out. It's in a sensitive area and I would prefer a real healer to do it."

Vincent cocked an eyebrow at him for a moment before glancing at the door. "Oh. Hi Farkas."

Vilkas' head swirled around to the doorway, ready to give his brother an explanation to why Vincent was kneeled between his legs. But to his surprise, Farkas was not there. No one was. Wait a minu-Vilkas really did yell as Vincent tore the arrow from his thigh and almost lashed out at him angrily.

"You little bastard!"

Vincent smiled. "If you watched me you would have tensed up."

"Get away from me!"

"No." Vincent shook his head still grinning. "Get over it Vilkas and hold still. We're almost done."

Vilkas grumbled angrily and tried not to tense up and Vincent's seemingly gentle hands returned to the wound on his thigh. That tingling instantly entered his thigh and began closing the wound as it had to his shoulder. However this was starting to have a different effect on Vilkas and he was pretty sure that it had to do with Vincent's hand rubbing his thigh in the way that it was. It didn't feel like just a healer's touch and he could have sworn if Vincent wasn't healing him that he was trying to turn him on! He cursed himself and prayed that Vincent hurried up and finished before he caught wind of the… 'situation'. He could hear his wolf snarling and growling in lust and it made him feel dizzy.

"Vincent…stop." It came out more breathy then intended and he reached out a shaky hand to rest on Vincent's shoulder. "It's fine. I'll heal normally now."

"I'm almost done, just hold on. There is no point in quitting when I'm this close to finishing." He didn't even look up from his work and Vilkas almost groaned in desperation.

Oh gods…please. Please stop…His willpower was hanging by a thread as the wolf chewed at the bit of his consciousness.

He felt the wound close and Vincent gave a sigh of relief. "There." He made the tragic mistake of Rubbing Vilkas' thigh and smiling up at him. "All done."

Vilkas lost himself in that smile and before he could stop himself he bolted off the bed and tackled the redhead to the floor. Vincent only gave out a startled yelp as he hit the floor with Vilkas' weight on top of him. He gripped Vincent's wrists and held them by his head. He watched Vincent's copper orbs widen in surprise and his lips part as if he was about to speak. No words came from his parted lips as of yet…he just stared up at Vincent with only the surprise readable on his expression.

Vilkas knew this was probably going to be a mistake but he couldn't hold back anymore. His grip on Vincent's wrists tightened and with a growl he plunged forward and captured Vincent's mouth with his own. He could hear his wolf give a echoing call of triumph as he had claimed the mage at last.


	7. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Vincent…" He managed to croak out. His voice was husky and thick with arousal and he silently cursed himself for how he sounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possessive!Vilkas from this point on people.

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Vincent's lips were soft. Softer then he thought they'd be for a man. There was still a slight soreness to his thigh and shoulder but he ignored it easily enough in favor of holding the redhead down. Even the slightest brush of lips was already enough to get Vilkas addicted to him. The initial contact had sent shivers down his spine and heat had pooled all too quickly to his groin. Though the mage had yet to retaliate, he had yet to react. The kiss only lasted about thirty seconds and Vincent had stayed like a limp fish the entire time. It was not enough to deter Vilkas…not now. Not with his wolf fused with his own self-consciousness. Though Vilkas still had an inch of control left and kept himself from tearing off Vincent's clothes and having his way with him on the floor.

Vilkas pulled back…only slightly so he could look at the dazed redhead. Vincent's expression remained furiously unreadable so Vilkas bit back a growl that threatened to release from his throat and loosened his grip, just slightly, on the captured mage's hands. He had little control of the situation at the moment but there was no way he'd ever allow his inner wolf to take advantage of someone like this. Especially someone he may have deep seated feelings for…not that he'd ever admit it.

"Vincent…" He managed to croak out. His voice was husky and thick with arousal and he silently cursed himself for how he sounded. He hated this but he had to make sure. Only when Vilkas spoke did Vincent react.

His pretty copper eyes went from surprise to contentment. His hard stone look softened and a small smile came to his lips. "Vilkas."

Gods damn that smile…He easily lost himself again and leaned down to retake those soft lips again. To his surprise, Vincent kissed back this time. He did anything but lay like a limp fish now and any doubt Vilkas had left in a hurry. Vilkas felt Vincent's legs hook over his hips and press himself closer to Vilkas' body. His clever tongue that had been used in many an argument and comebacks, was now brushing sweetly against his bottom lip in a silent plea to be let in. The wolf inside Vilkas was pleased by Vincent's submission and least there would be no vain struggled for dominance. By both his own need and the wolf's urgent pushing, he opened his mouth and allowed him entry.

His tongue felt amazing when it touched his own and sent another furious wave of pleasure to his groin. Somewhere buried deep in the back of Vilkas' mind, he questioned how the mage seemed so good at this. He instantly let the unanswered question fade away. It was really not the time to be thinking about it and Vincent was allowed to have had a life before walking into Vilkas'.

The kiss had started gentle and Vilkas was content and then redhead ruined the moment of tranquility by slightly rocking his hips. He was unfortunately positioned perfectly over Vilkas' clothed manhood and sent a jolt into the werewolf's body when he moved. Vilkas heard himself growl and the kiss became more feverish and demanding. He abandoned holding the mage down in favor of wrapping his arms around Vincent's waist and hoisting them both up into a sitting position. They both let out soft sounds as he forced Vincent into his lap where it was evident that he had quite a large 'problem'.

Vilkas would have blushed in embarrassment but Vincent seemed unbothered by his arousal and in fact, rocked his backside against it. Before Vilkas would let himself moan at the feeling he forced their mouths together again and let the moan become a muffled growl. He enjoyed the feel of those hips rocking, the taste of his mouth and that sweet fiery scent Vincent always seemed to carry with him. Vilkas' own hips began to move in time Vincent's and he heard a muffled moan come from the mage. He almost growled at his own pride. In an effort not to be heard he had denied himself the chance to hear Vincent cry out. He would have to rectify this…

As he rubbed his hands along Vincent's coat, he was suddenly possessed by the thought of touching more bare skin and moved quickly to satisfy this urge. He grabbed at the belt that held Vincent's pastel coat together and quickly tugged it off. Then he grabbed the opening near his neck and tugged down. Vincent smiled against his mouth and spoke a soft "easy…" Then he moved his arms to help Vilkas dislodge the offending garment before he ripped it off him. Vilkas broke their kiss so he could lift Vincent up slightly and remove the lower half of the coat from their tangled bodies. Vincent chuckled as he was hoisted up in the air slightly, before he was out back down. Obviously he found this situation slightly amusing. Vilkas threw the coat somewhere in his room, not really caring at the moment where it went and took in the sight of his mage without it.

He wore his white sleeved tunic underneath, vest and his normal pants and boots. Vilkas was surprised to see that Vincent's arms weren't skinny and limp like he figured them to be for a mage. He wasn't overly muscular but he could see the strength in them. He was made up of wiry muscle it seems and had the body of someone who worked on a farm perhaps? His body looked nice without the coat…he let his mind briefly wander to thoughts of how nice it would look with nothing on at all. Yes…that was a pleasing thought indeed… one he planned to make a reality, shortly.

"Do I get to take your stuff off now?"

Vincent's voice had startled him out of la la land and all he could do was nod to the question. Vincent smiled again and his marred hands set to work on the back clasps of his armor. They'd already removed the lower half to heal his thigh and the shoulder guards when he was healing his shoulder, so all that was left was the chest plate. When that clanked to the ground beside him, Vincent ran his hands along the simple black shirt that Vilkas had underneath. The cloth itself was flimsy so Vilkas could feel every touch as if it was bare skin contact.

Although the gentle caresses felt nice and those wicked hips of his were moving just right again, Vilkas' wolf was becoming impatient. With a harsh shove against Vilkas' self conscious, the wolf made his demands known…and Vilkas was nearly powerless to stop it.

One of his hands rested against the curve of Vincent's spine and the other slowly made it's way up. It passed over the soft skin on his neck and he was not displeased when he saw Vincent lean into the touch. His fingers kept moving up…over the curve of his cheek, past his forehead and into his hair. He took a moment to run his fingers through it and hear the mage purr in content and then he grabbed a fist full of it and tugged with a sudden ferocity that it even startled Vilkas. The hand on Vincent's spine kept him upright and in Vilkas' lap or else he would have been jostled to the floor by the force of the pull.

Vincent's mouth opened in shock and a startled yelp passed his lips. His grip almost loosened instantly in fear he may have severely hurt the mage. He examined Vincent's face and found it surprisingly, accepting. His cheeks were slightly red with what Vilkas could only describe as the most adorable blush he'd ever seen Vincent make and his copper eyes held no anger or fear. They clouded over slightly with a look that Vilkas had never seen before on the mage but was quite pleased to see now. The hand stayed tight and experimentally gave another tug. Vincent let out a soft moan and his hips twitched at the second tug. It was not as harsh as the first one and the lust in Vincent's eyes grew darker.

Now was the time…his wolf knew it and howled his intent in Vilkas' ear. As though his body moved on it's own, Vilkas pulled Vincent's head to the side by the grip on his hair and exposed his pale neck. Vincent gave almost a helpless moan at the action but did not struggle against it. Poor thing…he had no idea what he was in for.

Vilkas leaned in quickly and connected his mouth high up on his neck and right under his chin. He started with soft kisses and heard Vincent purr again…only to have that purr turn into a gasp as Vilkas bit slightly on the skin. He sucked and bit on the skin to leave an angry looking purplish red mark on that porcelain skin. He smiled at the sight and moved a bit to the side to leave another one. He repeated the action all the way down the redhead's neck, smirking against his skin as Vincent squirmed and shivered in his lap.

Vilkas pulled away to inspect his handy work and couldn't help but grin wolfishly as he saw all the purplish marks he left. Even wearing his coat, Vincent wouldn't be able to hide some of them. Let Tovar see that! The dark part of his growled happily. The mage belonged to them now…well…almost.

He leaned in to kiss the marks he'd made, then he laid the mage flat against the floor again and took residence between his spread legs. He kept the mage's mouth occupied while his free hand moved down to grasp the hem of Vincent's dark pants. Vilkas didn't consider himself able to have a gentle touch, but he let his fingers run down to palm Vincent through his trousers.

His eyes opened so he could watch the mage writhe under him. He looked…beautiful. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, raid breathing and blushing face. They had fought, tooth and nail every step of the way together and as much as Vilkas hated magic, he didn't hate Vincent. He felt something he hadn't felt when he was with anyone else and it slightly scared him. The wolf gave an answer to his unspoken question and the spark of recognition lit inside Vilkas. The dreams, how he always tried to seek Vincent out, how he secretly cared about the mages' well being and the sudden possessiveness he'd come to show.

Vilkas licked at Vincent's bottom lip and couldn't help growling out a possessive "Mine."

"Mmm…" Vincent mumbled, possibly not even hearing him.

Vilkas pulled Vincent in closer and placed his mouth at the base of his neck. Vincent craned his head to give Vilkas easier access, probably figuring he was about to receive more kisses. Poor fool. Vilkas knew this was going to hurt Vincent and he couldn't even believe himself when he found out he didn't care. He'd slept with other people and never once did the wolf have a desire to mark them. No, both he and the wolf have chosen the mage and unfortunately for Vincent, he had no say in the matter.

He bit down and felt the tender skin break under the abuse and the mage gasp as he felt his blood spill. Vilkas thought about drinking it but he knew Vincent was sick with…something. It might be in his blood so he decided to spit out what had fallen into his mouth and grab his bed sheet directly behind him to hold to the mage's neck. His wolf growled angrily.

_'You should have marked him while inside him.'_

_All things in due time,_ he assured the wolf. Vincent was his now and even if he ran, Vilkas would be compelled to give chase. He would hunt Vincent down and drag him back by force if he needed to. As long as the wolf was joined with him, he would now always long for the mage. He'd throw himself headlong into this with everything he had now. He'd come a long way from hating him…

He looked up to see how Vincent was holding up. He seemed fine but now there seemed to be a slight worry hidden behind the lust in his eyes. Vilkas rubbed Vincent's hair as soothingly as he could and moved the bed sheet to check on the wound. To his surprise it was almost already closed but he knew it would leave a scar. Vilkas chalked up his miraculous healing to the magic he possessed although he had not felt that odd tingle of magic being cast.

"Vincent, I-"

**AH-CHOO!**

Both men froze. That sneeze had not come from either of them.

"Oh, you idiot. Shut up. They'll hear."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I couldn't hold it in anymore."

"Both of you be quiet. I don't hear them moving anymore."

Both men stared at the door, obviously hearing the three female voices who were attempting to talk quietly. Soon three sets of eyes peeked around the corner to spy and widened when they found themselves caught.

There was an awkward moment of silence as Vilkas instantly identified who the eyes belonged to. Aela, Ria and Njada. He could feel the anger in him rise and a growl threaten to erupt from his throat. However, Vincent didn't react in anger as Vilkas was about to. With a quick shove, he had Vilkas off him and he quickly scrambled to get his gloves on and find his coat.

Vilkas watched him scurry about, feeling slightly dazed and lamenting on the loss of opportunity. Vincent stopped in front of him, shrugging into his coat and smiling a sweet yet embarrassed smile at him.

"I'm…going to go Vilkas. We'll talk later."

Vilkas just nodded in response, his sharp eyes staying on his almost-lover's form as he retreated. Aela stopped him before he could leave, her attempts to not grin failing her.

"Vincent, when you get the chance, Skjor wanted to see you. It's urgent, he said."

"O-okay. Thank you."

When Vincent was gone, Vilkas slowly got to his feet and glared angrily at the door. Ria 'eep'ed' and ran off quickly. Njada just snickered and followed Ria's retreat. She was strong but not even she wanted to take on a pissed off Vilkas. Aela held her ground however. She smiled as he stalked closer and leaned against his doorframe.

"We all go outside for an hour or so and we come back to find you molesting him."

"Shut up." He growled. "I was hurt from arrows and you were all missing! He had to nearly break his neck trying to get me down the stairs!"

"So you bite and nearly rip his hair out as payment for helping you?"

Dear god…how much did she see? He'd been so wrapped up in Vincent's scent, mouth and those damn talented hips that he hadn't even heard anyone approach.

Vilkas slammed his hands against the doorframe loudly but Aela didn't even flinch. "What you saw was none of your business! You had no right to spy on us!"

"Calm down Vilkas. It sounded like you were hurting him so I investigated. It was not as I thought but I'm pleased it wasn't. In fact I'm happy to see you…getting along with him so well."

Aela had always been as a big sister and as mad as he was at the moment he couldn't raise a hand to her. Not yet. He just groaned in frustration and embarrassment and retreated back to his bed where he promptly hid his face in his hands.

"Why were Ria and Njada here too?"

"We could all hear it. When they saw me gawking in amazement, they came to investigate as well."

"When you found out…why didn't you go away?"

Aela shifted slightly against the wall and cleared her throat. "Well…I was…" she shook her head. "That doesn't matter. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? How many of you 'heard'?"

"Only me and the girls. The boys are all still upstairs…but I'm sure Njada and Ria will tell them. They are no good at keeping secrets."

Vilkas groaned. "Great."

"Not that you could keep it secret for too long anyway Vilkas. Even a blind man could see all the marks on Vincent's neck." He saw her eyes roam to the bed sheet where a small sample of Vincent's blood was still evident. A slow look of horror made it's way to her face. "Oh Vilkas…you didn't…"

"Didn't what?"

"You marked him?" She asked walking over and grabbing the edge of the bed sheet. "How could you do such a thing?"

"So what…?" he grumbled sullenly. "It's none of your damn business anyway."

"Vilkas." She had the angry big sister voice now. "You realize what you've done, haven't you? Your wolf will never let Vincent go! Have you ever stopped to think that he may want to go back to High Rock someday? That he may want to leave us? I don't think he knows what you've done!"

"Why do you even care?!" he bolted upright to stare her down. "You shouldn't even KNOW any of this!"

"I CARE about Vincent." She growled at him. "He may be entering our fold very soon and I don't want there to be complications."

"First off Aela, there are no complications. He belongs to me and that's that!" before Aela could open her mouth to retort, he continued. "Secondly, he will not be joining the circle!"

"I told you that you have no say in that Vilkas."

He snarled and with an inhuman speed was suddenly inches from her face, teeth bared. "And I told you he belongs to me!"

"Vilkas…This isn't you talking. You know he's not an object to be owned. Get your wolf under control."

He knew she was right. Vincent wasn't an object and he was free to make his own decisions in life. He turned his back on her and ran a shaky hand through his own hair, while taking deep controlled breaths. He needed to push the wolf away. He'd been so close during his time with Vincent and the marking to the point where Vilkas hadn't kept him in check. Restraining an almost loose creature, desperate to roam free was no easy task.

"You're right Aela…I…" He took in another deep breath. "I'm just frustrated."

She gently laid her hand on his back and rubbed in a soothing way. "Maybe you should go for a roam in the countryside. Let the beast loose and work out some aggression."

"No." He shook her hand off gently and sat back down on his bed. "I'm fine now."

"You're not fine, Vilkas. Look at you." He knew she was just trying to help but she was really starting to get on his nerves. "Go out for a bit. Everything will be fine."

"I don't want to."

"Vilkas." She paused. "I hear those merchants down by the city gates are cats. May be fun to chase as the wolf."

"Why are you trying to get me to leave?" He huffed, missing the sudden guilty look on her face. "I don't want to let my wolf loose! You know I don't, so drop it!"

The look was gone before he could catch it and she cleared her throat. "Fine, but listen to reason, Vilkas. Your wolf has chosen to mate with a man who could walk away at any time. If he joined the circle and became one of us he would be bound to you as you are to him. Let this happen."

Vilkas looked up at her, his blue eyes were tired from the arguing and he felt like he wanted to just go to sleep and forget today even happened. He'd lived with this pain and physical torment and he just couldn't force that on someone he felt so deeply about.

"I'm sorry Aela…" he spoke sounding as tired as he looked. "I may have condemned myself by choosing Vincent but I won't let you condemn his soul by making him one of us. I won't change him for such a selfish reason as my own personal happiness."

She sighed. "So you won't change your mind?"

"No."

An uneasy silence followed. Aela clearly looked as if she wanted to keep pressing the issue but decided to back off. She turned and left without another word, leaving Vilkas to his solitude. He kicked off his shoes and lay back in his bed. He absently starred at the wall as his wolf raged inside his head. He shut his pale blue eyes and sighed.

Maybe he should invest in a door.  
\-------

"So glad you could come see me, Vincent." Skjor patted the smaller man on the back and led him outside away from the other men and the rowdy drinking atmosphere. Vincent saw Torvar and Athis drinking and cursing loudly. Tilma was sweeping up their mess as they made it, with a heavy sigh.

"Where is Kodlak?" Vincent asked before they ventured fully outside.

"In the bath. Said he needed to relax tonight." He ushered Vincent outside and into the chill night. Both moons were full and high in the sky tonight. Skjor breathed in the crisp night air and smiled at the mage. "Have you ever seen a more beautiful night?"

Vincent sighed and shifted in place. He was still a bit embarrassed from the girls spying on him and Vilkas. His coat didn't even hide all the marks and he knew for a fact Skjor had seen them. "No. The nights in Skyrim are truly a wonderful sight to see."

"How are you feeling?"

Concerned. Afraid. Wary. "Fine."

"Tell me something Vincent…" He turned to directly face him with an unreadable expression. "What are your plans for the future?"

"…I've…never really thought about it."

"Come now…I'm sure you must have some idea."

Vincent sighed. Running. That was his answer. It was only a matter of time before his past caught up with him and he would have to flee again. His gloved hand ran idly down his neck to the small wound that Vilkas gave him. He'd read enough creature books in that old dank library when he should have been pouring his attention over spell tomes. He knew what Vilkas had done to him…and he honestly didn't know why he hadn't stopped him.

It was a mistake and it should have never happened. The whole situation should have never happened. He should have stopped it after the first kiss. He should have pushed Vilkas away. His better judgment had told him not to get close to Vilkas but like a fool he had ignored it. He'd grown too close and now had to admit he felt something for him. Those feelings were too dangerous, but he did it anyway. Foolish. Still so damn foolish. 

"Vincent?"

"O-oh. Sorry…I lost myself in thought. What were we talking about?"

"Your plans for the future."

Vincent shrugged. "Maybe someday I'll open an orphanage or something."

Skjor kept a neutral expression but couldn't hide the slight surprise from his voice. "That's a rather odd thing to want out of the blue."

"I had to live in an orphanage in High Rock with my sister. The place was packed full of kids who had nowhere else to go and there wasn't nearly enough money for us to eat or space for us to sleep." he shrugged. "Maybe it would be nice to give some kids a place to grow up and possibly get adopted."

Skjor smiled. "In High Rock?"

"…Maybe I'll start one here. There are orphans in Skyrim too…especially with the impending civil war."

"They have an orphanage. It's in Riften."

"I hear the place was run by a nasty old hag." Vincent huffed.

"Was?"

"Yeah. She recently died. Murdered. Some say it was the Dark Brotherhood."

"I see…Let me ask you something else then."

The small talk was starting to make him wary. "Okay."

"How do you feel about staying with the companions?"

"…It's honest work I guess."

He saw Skjor frown for a moment before returning to his natural expression. "What about Vilkas?" A small smile came to his face when he saw Vincent tense slightly.

"What about him?"

"You two…you're rather close. Right?"

"I…" he rubbed the purplish marks on his neck…there was no reason to hide it anyway. "…I guess so."

"How do you feel about him?"

Vincent struggled with the thought. He really liked Vilkas. Everything about him made him want to smile. Even that grumpy face he got when they were arguing about magic. He was unlike any man he'd ever met before and he knew he felt something for him.

"I…like him."

"You don't want to leave him, right?"

"No." That answer was clear. "I'd love to stay with him."

"Then stay." Skjor grinned. "I want you to join the circle, Vincent."

"I didn't know you were accepting more members to the circle."

"We keep it quiet. No need to get the rest them riled up for a contest that isn't happening. We watch. Then we choose. We have chosen you."

"Am I good enough to be in the circle?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Magic is needed?"

"Absolutely. I've come to know you over these past months and I've grown fond of you, boy. I'd hate to see you go and I know Vilkas would hate it too, as much as he'd never admit it."

"I don't know…"

"We are like a family Vincent. We protect one another and look out for each other. We'd love for you to join us."

Vincent swallowed thickly, taking this entire thing in. A future he never thought possible, presenting itself.  "Really? A family that protects one another?"

"Right."

He'd been looking for protection from his demons and maybe he could find a permanent place here. Would these people fight for him when the day came? Vincent knew it was only a matter of time before that day **did** come, and the opportunity to be protected and fought for was almost too good to pass up. That, and there was Vilkas. He'd be closer to him…and maybe…they could make this thing between them work?

"I…I'm not like you guys though." He sighed. "I'm not a…you know…"

"We are alone Vincent, you can say it. Werewolf. You're not a werewolf."

"yeah…"

"Well don't worry about that. Do you have interest in joining out family Vincent? I need to know now."

"R-right now?"

"As soon as possible yes. Tonight would be the perfect night to initiate you in."

Vincent bit his still swollen lip from the treatment Vilkas had given it earlier. Something about this didn't sit right. Skjor seemed too urgent, too anxious…and something was wrong here. "Vilkas is okay with me joining?"

He saw Skjor pause for a moment. "I think he's more open to the idea now."

"So everyone wants me in the circle…" He smiled slightly hiding his insecurities behind it. "Then why not? Sure."

A genuine smile came to Skjor and possibly a look of relief and he pat Vincent gently on the back. "Excellent." he scanned the darkness and gave a curt nod in the direction of the under forge. Vincent turned his head to see Aela outside and stepping inside the dark tunnel. "Aela and I will over see your initiation."

"Vilkas won't be here?"

"…No."

"Why not? Isn't this something all the circle should see?"

"Vilkas needs to get some sleep."

"What about Farkas?"

"He's busy."

Vincent hadn't seen Farkas in the common room so he supposed that was true. "Well…Okay I guess. Kodlak knows right?"

"Absolutely."

Vincent nodded. He allowed himself to be led in the direction for the under forge by Skjor and stopped at the shadowy threshold. Skjor went in first and Vincent stared after him a moment. Something inside him screamed that this was a mistake but he pushed it aside. Safety… he told himself. For safety and for Vilkas. With that thought held in his heart, he stepped into the under forge and into the darkness. He was unaware however that steel blue eyes watched him from a near by window of Jorrvaskr.  
\-----

"Vilkas!"

Vilkas grumbled and swatted at the big hand trying to shake him awake.

"Vilkas! Brother!"

Vilkas grunted. He was having a wonderful dream about a certain redhead and his big oaf of a brother was ruining it.

"Go away."

"Wake up Vilkas! It's about Vincent!"

That got Vilkas' attention. He sat up way too quickly and made himself slightly dizzy. "What? What is it?"

Farkas' eye browns were furrowed slightly in worry. "I just saw Skjor taking Vincent to the under forge."

"He what?"

"I knew there was talk about adding Vincent to the circle but you don't actually think that…"

Vilkas jumped out of bed quickly and jolted past Farkas. He stopped only briefly to get his shoes on and grab his sword. He started to stomp down the hallway, ignoring the startled look Farkas gave him.

"Vilkas! What are you doing!"

"Stay out of this brother."

"Stop! Put the sword away!"

"They went against my wishes! I have to stop this!" He sprinted through the halls of Jorrvaskr with his weapon drawn and upstairs to the first floor before Farkas could get a hold of him. Torvar and Athis looked startled as he charged up, half dressed and wielding a weapon. They wisely didn't say a word or attempt to stop the clearly furious man. He got to the door to the courtyard before Farkas managed to get up the stairs.

"Brother, stop!"

Vilkas wasn't listening though. He slammed open the door and burst out into the courtyard. he didn't even both to shut it behind him and ignored the sound of Tilma yelling after him about being raised in a barn. He could also hear Farkas yelling for someone to go get Kodlak. He didn't care. Aela and Skjor had betrayed him and he would make them pay for it.

Before he got to the under forge, he saw Aela walking out with her arm bandaged and a slightly grim look on her face. She glanced up and her eyes widened at the sight of Vilkas.

"What have you done!" Vilkas yelled as he approached, not setting his sword down. "Where is he!"

"Vilkas! Just calm down-"

"WHERE IS HE?" He raised the sword; ready to strike at her if he so pleased. "TELL ME!"

A strong hand gripped his wrist and tried to dislodge his weapon from his grasp. "Brother! STOP!"

"LET GO OF ME, FARKAS!"

To his dismay, his brother didn't let go and tightened the grip enough to make Vilkas' hand spasm and the sword to fall harmlessly into the dirt.

"Why are you behaving this way, brother? What's happened?"

Aela rubbed her bandaged arm. "He marked Vincent, Farkas."

The grip he had on Vilkas didn't not loosen by the surprise was evident on his face. "He did? Brother?"

Vilkas just growled in response and tried lashing out at Aela again. If not for the grip Farkas had him in, he'd already be at her throat.

"I don't see that as a bad thing, Aela…" Farkas spoke making sure he had Vilkas in a tight grip. "My brother has chosen someone to be with. Why is he so angry?"

"He didn't want Vincent to become a member to the circle."

"I didn't want him to be a monster like we are!" Vilkas finally spoke through clenched teeth. "You betrayed me and did it anyway! You've condemned him to this horrible existence!"

Farkas looked down at his brother and then up at Aela. "Is that true, Aela…? You knew Vilkas felt this way and you did it anyway?"

"Don't look at me like that Farkas. We gave Vincent the choice." She sighed and looked almost pleadingly at Vilkas. "Vilkas…listen to me. I know you're mad but you must be at ease."

"Why should I?"

"Because Vincent needs you in there. I was coming to get you." she sighed again and couldn't bear to look him in the eye. "Something…went wrong."

Vilkas eyes widened slightly. "What…"

"He's really sick." She admitted. "We did the ritual…He didn't change."


	8. Ever the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's really sick." She admitted. "We did the ritual…He didn't change."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish chapter. Sorry  
> Very Angry!Vilkas and slight OOC

\-----  
\---  
\--

"He's really sick." She admitted. "We did the ritual…He didn't change."

Vilkas shoved Farkas off him and pushed past Aela and into the under forge. His heart was beating in his throat and he couldn't think properly. With each step he took, his worry escalated.

"Be okay…please be okay."

He ran out into the ceremony chamber and saw Skjor leaned over a still figure on the ground. He instantly recognized the pastel colors of Vincent's coat and felt his rage mix with his worry. Skjor looked up, expecting Aela but saw Vilkas instead. The color drained from his face, and guilt instantly flooded his features.

"Vilkas…Listen-"

"Move."

"Vilkas, we-"

"I SAID, **MOVE**."

Skjor backed away from Vincent and put himself behind the alter, still filled with some of Aela's blood. Vilkas ran over to Vincent and hoisted the mage into his arms. His head lolled to the side like a lifeless rag doll and Vilkas spotted the blood running from his mouth and down his chin. His blood ran cold as his dream pressed against his memory. In a panic he put his head against Vincent's chest and was relived to hear him breathing, however faint it was. Maybe he wouldn't be smote with magic in a minute after all.

Vincent's lack of movement was startling however, and it made Vilkas that much more nervous about the welfare of his mate. Words could not even describe the immeasurable amounts of worry and rage he was feeling at the moment so he choose to try and ignore both impulses for now and worry about getting Vincent somewhere safer.

He stood up, carrying Vincent like a bride out of the under forge without even a word to Skjor, Aela or Farkas. He went right back inside, ignoring Torvar when he asked if Vincent was alright. Vilkas bit back his sudden possessiveness and just kept walking. He called for Tilma as he passed the common room and went down the steps to the liking quarters. He brought the unconscious mage back to Vilkas' own room and laid him on the bed.

Tilma showed up a moment later and helped Vilkas clean the blood off Vincent's lips and chin. She pulled Vilkas' blanket up over him and put a hand to his head.

"He's running a fever. Does he have a history of being sick, Vilkas?"

"He coughs a lot some days…"

"I'll go get him a wet rag. Stay with him."

She scuttled out of the room as fast as her old body could go and returned a moment later with a water basin and some rags. Vilkas paced about his room nervously as he watched Tilma clean him up and inspect him. A part of him wanted to shove the old woman aside and just hold Vincent until he opened his pretty eyes, but he pushed that thought quickly away. She was just trying to help and he needed to accept it. He was glad she didn't ask about all the marks on his neck…

"What is all the commotion?"

Vilkas looked up and saw Kodlak standing in the doorway with Aela, Skjor and Farkas. Vilkas instantly growled in anger. Kodlak walked casually in and leaned over Tilma to inspect Vincent. After a moment he stood upright and sighed heavy.

"What happened here?"

"Vincent performed to ritual to become a member of the circle, Kodlak." Skjor spoke up, his eyes on Vilkas however. "He accepted the gift and things went…wrong."

"Accepted?" Vilkas spoke up, his hands clenched into fight fists. "You probably tricked him!"

Skjor seemed glad that Kodlak stood between him and Vilkas because he was sure Vilkas wanted to lash out. A slightly guilty look did cross his face. "I offered him the protection of being a circle member. He agreed."

"Did he?" Vilkas stormed up but Kodlak put a hand to his chest to stop his advance. "You betrayed me Skjor! I told you I didn't want Vincent to be like us but you just HAD to keep pushing it!"

Tilma took this moment to excuse herself and whispered something in Kodlak's ear before she left. Kodlak cleared his throat to the bickering men and they quieted down.

"Tilma said the boy will be fine with bed rest. Relax Vilkas."

"Relax? They almost killed him!"

"We did not!" Aela piped up. "He could have walked out of the under forge when we offered the blood! He didn't need to stay!"

Vilkas glared daggers at Skjor. He was shaking in anger but attempted to keep his voice level. "I trust you not to lie to me Skjor so I want you to tell me right now…What did Vincent say when you offered him the gift?"

Skjor sighed. "He…rejected it at first. Told us he didn't want to be a werewolf…"

"Skjor!" Aela had a minute of panic to her voice but Skjor hushed her.

"I told him he couldn't be in the circle unless he accepted the gift. I had filled his head with all the safety and new family he would have if he accepted…so he changed his mind and drank it. Then…he…" Skjor swallowed hard. "He…suddenly convulsed and threw up all the blood. I stayed with him and sent Aela to go find you. That's it."

"That's it?" Vilkas was trembling in pure unadulterated fury. "THAT'S IT? YOU PRESURED HIM INTO IT?"

"Vilkas, please listen-"

"NO!" Vilkas spat angrily. "You lied to him and to me! For someone who claimed to have spent so much time with him, you didn't know he was sick!"

Skjor's eye widened slightly. "Vincent is sick?"

Vilkas threw his arms up in exasperation. "I can't believe you! Either of you!"

Aela and Skjor did look ashamed but Vilkas didn't care. He wanted to actually hurt the people who had been like family to him all these years. He found the ability to stay mad at Aela and to hate Skjor all at once.

"Hey…"

Vilkas stopped. His anger suddenly left him in a great hurry and it was instantly replaced with worry. He glanced down at the bed to see a feverish Vincent awake.

"Vincent…"

The mage gave a weak smile. "What's with all the shouting?" His voice sounded raspy. "I'm trying to sleep, here."

A sudden relieved silence filled the room and Vilkas backed away from the others in favor of kneeling by the mage's bedside. Kodlak seemed to suddenly remember that he was supposed to be the one in charge and cleared his throat.

"Alright you lot. Lets clear out and let Vincent get some rest. When he is feeling better we will convene again and discuss what will be done." His last words had a note of grim to them that made Aela and Skjor flinch. They must be expecting punishment.

Everyone slowly filled out, except for Vilkas. He grabbed a chair from the corner of his room and seated himself by Vincent's bedside. He was glad that Tilma left the rag and water basin behind, then again the woman usually thought of everything. He dipped the rag in and then wrung it out before placing it on Vincent's forehead.

The Mage's eyes were still open and he gave Vilkas a tired smile. "Thank you."

"I'm not very good taking care of others." Vilkas admitted.

"You're doing just fine…"

Vilkas let his hand run down the cloth and onto Vincent's face. Despite the fever, his skin was slightly clammy and cold. "What happened?" He couldn't keep the rage from his voice even though he had desperately tried.

Vincent's eyes were slightly tired and ashamed. "I accepted the gift Skjor offered me. It's all my fault."

"Don't lie for him." Vilkas soothed while stoking his cheek. "You don't need to protect him."

"It was as he said, Vilkas. I could hear you arguing, you know… how I got here is still a bit of a blur but when you started yelling I think I came to." The redhead took a deep breath. "They offered me protection in the circle…Said that we'd be like a family. I'd forgotten what it was like to be part of a family…" he paused to cough. "…I wanted to belong somewhere again."

Vilkas hushed him. "You do belong here." He took Vincent's hand in his own. His grasp was slightly limp but he tried to give Vilkas' had a squeeze. "I'm glad the curse failed. I wouldn't want to condemn you to such a hell…and curse or no, you WILL be part of the circle."

Vincent weakly laughed. "I thought you didn't want me in the circle."

"I didn't want you in the circle because I didn't want you to have to take the beast blood. I didn't want to condemn you to this misery."

"Vilkas…"

"You will be a member of the circle. Beast blood or no, Vincent. You earned it."

Vincent fell silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now get some sleep."

"Okay….but do me one favor?"

"Sure."

"Will you go get my bag from the room?"

"Okay." Vilkas stood up and reluctantly left Vincent's side. He went into the area all the whelps slept and picked up Vincent's knapsack from the floor. He made sure to close it so none of the contents would spill out and walked back to his own room with said item in tow.

Vincent smiled gratefully and struggled to sit up. "Can you hand it to me?"

Vilkas did as he was asked and watched the redhead shuffle through it. He wasn't surprised when Vincent pulled out the small red vial and uncorked it with some difficulty. Then he downed it all without a second thought and gagged at the taste. Then he placed the empty bottle and cork into his knapsack and set it aside.

"Thank you, Vilkas."

"What was that?"

"…My medicine."

"Vincent…" Vilkas sat back down near him. "Are you really so sick?"

Vincent's mouth set itself into a grim line. "Yes."

"With that sickness you mentioned? The one your father and Sister had?"

"…Vilkas. Can…we talk about this another time? I'm very tired."

"…I guess so. Get some sleep, alright?"

Vincent gave Vilkas' hand another squeeze, this one slightly stronger then the last one. "Okay."  
\----

The next week passed. Vincent was seated up and eating normally again. The last few days had been torturous for Vilkas. He didn't know if Vincent was going to make it. Some days he slept the whole way through and did not wake until the following afternoon. Vilkas noted that in a three day rotation, Vincent would take the foul smelling medicine of his. Vincent didn't bring the subject up so, Vilkas decided to let him have his privacy; at least for now.

At the end of the seven day rotation, however he was sitting up in bed and resumed some normalcy. He was well enough that Kodlak called for the meeting in Vilkas' room so they wouldn't have to move Vincent to another location.

The harbinger and the rest of the circle piled into the room, all greeting the recovering mage with some relief.

"Now that this has had some time to linger, it is time we spoke of what had happened like calm and mature adults." Kodlak began and cleared his throat before continuing. "Skjor had admitted his guilt and for that I am proud of him. I will let him speak first."

Vilkas tried not to growl at the old man's words but respected him enough that he would not disagree with his statement. Skjor stepped forward, looking toward the mage in the bed with a slightly guilty look in his good eye.

"Vincent, I am so sorry for what happened to you. If you hadn't made it…I would have never been able to forgive myself. I pressured you into something he didn't wish to do and for that, I apologize."

"It's okay, Skjor. I forgive you."

Vilkas' hands tightened into fists at his side and tried to keep a cap on his rage. Especially when Skjor turned to him and made a similar sentiment.

"Vilkas. I'm sorry that-"

"Don't." Vilkas interrupted him, unable to listen to the lame excuse. "Just don't, Skjor. Vincent forgives you. Drop it."

"…As you wish." He backed away and to Kodlak's side where he was temporarily safe from Vilkas' wrath.

"Now that that's out of the way, I think we need to discuss what is to be done about Vincent's circle nomination."

"Nomination?" Vilkas scoffed. "He's in the circle. There is no nomination."

"He's not like us, Vilkas." Aela decided to finally speak after being silent for so long. "The gift would not accept him. He cannot be in the circle."

Vilkas eyes widened in disbelief for a moment. "Are you serious?"

"Very." Aela crossed her arms. "I have nothing against Vincent but we are all supposed to be gifted with the blood of the beast."

"It is no gift!" Vilkas snarled. "It's nothing but a curse that you and Skjor hide behind! You put Vincent through hell and almost killed him, now you're going to deny him entry to the circle!"

"Please understand where Aela is coming from, Vilkas." Skjor interjected. "It is dangerous to have someone in the circle that is unlike us. They do not understand the struggle of hiding the wolf from the eyes of the world and may not take the struggle as seriously."

"Farkas!" Vilkas looked up at his brother's sad face. "Do you agree with this?"

Farkas shifted slightly. "Not really."

"Lets vote on it then, since we are so divided…" Kodlak sighed. "Vilkas. You first."

"Vincent should be allowed in the circle. That's my vote."

"Good. Aela?"

"I do not think he should be allowed in." She answered quickly and looked anywhere but Vincent's face. She would have been better off though. Instead she met Vilkas' angry blue eyes.

"I see. Skjor?"

Skjor sighed. "I want to permit him to join…but it's too much of a risk. I agree with Aela. I'm sorry Vincent."

Vincent just bowed his head, his face wearing no angry expression. Vilkas was furious enough for both of them…

Kodlak wore a slightly displeased look. "Farkas?"

"…I think Vincent should be allowed in."

Vilkas could have hugged him at that moment. He gave his brother an approving smile and Farkas returned an uneasy one. Kodlak sighed and looked around the room.

"So it falls to me to break this indecision." He walked over to Vincent's bedside and put a hand on his shoulder. "How are you feeling, boy?"

"Better." Vincent nodded.

"Good enough to be up in three days time?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want to join the circle?"

Vincent thought about it for a moment. "I like what the circle stands for but I understand if I cannot be a part of it."

"Good answer lad." Kodlak backed up and headed for the door. "Vincent is in the circle. We will coronate him in three days time. I will hear no more on this." And then he left.


	9. As your shadow crosses mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent looked at him seriously. Vilkas tried to ignore the obvious, Are you stupid, look that came to the mage's features. "I read a lot of books, Vilkas. I've read quite a few on wolves and werewolves. I know what you've done."

Vincent's coronation loomed on the horizon. All of the companions had been warned that Vincent was to join the circle, and instantly a banquet was planned. Usually there was not a huge display for someone being initiated in, but Vilkas had heard that Skjor was the one organizing it. Surprising for someone who rejected Vincent's entry. He must have been trying to make up for his behavior and decision. Aela however had shown no signs of trying to make it up to the mage or even remotely feeling sorry for what she'd done. She had, however, stopped by to check on how Vincent was recovering. That would have to suffice. Regardless, Vilkas had not said a word to either of them since that night.

Vincent was up and walking around by day two. Vilkas was secretly proud of him. The small man had more stamina and vigor than Vilkas ever gave him credit for. He did almost die and yet he looked now as if he had never come close to the edge. On the third day, his skin color was it's normal creamy white palette and his copper eyes had the light back in them. Vilkas watched him now, slightly distracted, from the chair in his room. Vincent was sitting on Vilkas' bed, back in his traditional garb and drinking that foul smelling medicine of his again. He then capped it like always and put the empty vial in his knapsack. Vilkas still wanted to ask what he took the medicine for but it was clear Vincent was not keen on talking about it.

The thought still made Vilkas' mind into a jumble of anxiety. What was Vincent hiding and why couldn't he just come out and tell him? Vilkas wasn't one to dwell on such things but no matter how hard he tied he couldn't help but feel he was being deceived in some way and the thought actually hurt him deep down. He'd finally gotten close to someone and marked him as a mate and everything… yet he still felt like he couldn't trust the mage somehow.

"Thank you…"

Vilkas blinked, his eyes refocusing on the mage. He'd been lost in thought and almost hadn't processed Vincent's words. "Uh…what?"

Vincent smiled kindly and fixed the top of his knapsack. "Thank you. For letting me stay here, I mean."

"It's fine." He wouldn't admit it out loud but he enjoyed Vincent's company. He'd always kept to himself, despite having a brother he was close to. He hadn't even slept in the same bed as Vincent during his stay. Vilkas had rolled out a mat on the floor to sleep, allowing the mage full access to his bed. His eyes now traced over the mage and he felt a bit of satisfaction when he saw his markings were still all over his neck. Though, they were beginning to fade. If they had shared a bed, Vilkas may not of been able to control himself. Vincent had been recovering and needed his rest. He didn't need a horny werewolf trying to rut against his backside all night. 

"I'll move back to my other quarters today, if you want."

"Not necessary." Vilkas replied keeping an even voice. He did NOT want Vincent staying in that place with Torvar. "Come here for a moment."

Vincent cocked his head to one side but didn't disobey him. He walked over and stood by the base of Vilkas' chair, waiting for him to stand up. Vilkas didn't move however and somewhat awkwardly pat his own lap. He felt stupid even motioning it and really hoped Vincent wouldn't make him say it out loud. There was a pause…a moment of hesitation, but lucky for him it didn't seem to be an issue. Vincent got the hint easily enough, and with a slightly nervous smile, sat down on Vilkas' lap. He wasn't too much shorter then Vilkas so he had to adjust his legs when he sat to make himself comfortable. Vilkas slung an arm around his waist to keep him steady and looked slightly upward to meet the mage's eyes. Those copper eyes starred back into his blue ones, unsure yet contented.

Vilkas had to admit he felt slightly awkward doing this with Vincent and not just because he was a man. He wasn't the type to dote or coddle a lover. Snuggling really wasn't Vilkas' style…Only usually after sex did it seem even somewhat appropriate. This felt…slightly outlandish. They hadn't slept together yet…and the most they HAD done was kiss and rub against each other fully clothed.

 _'Yet it was enough for you to decide to mark him.'_ The wolf chipped in a reminder.

Yeah. He remembered all right. He couldn't even look at the mage the same way anymore. Now, he didn't see a blasted magic caster with a slightly arrogant air about him. Now, all he saw was his mate. It finally sank in. It sank in to how much he cared and how much he'd be broken without him. It sank in to how much Vincent could hurt him by deciding to walk away… That's why he needed Vincent in the circle. Not just because the mage deserved it or that he almost died trying to enter. No. He needed Vincent in the circle for his own selfish reasons. He needed him in the circle so he would stay.

"Vilkas..?" The redhead pulled him out of his own little world once again. He looked down at Vilkas' slightly concerned. He'd laid his hand somewhat awkwardly against Vilkas' back and rubbed his hand in slow comforting circles. "Are you okay?"

"Aye." Vilkas nodded. "I'm fine."

Vincent nodded and to Vilkas' apparent relief, he did not stop rubbing his back. Vilkas found the motion soothing to his nerves. "You seem distracted."

"I suppose I am a little." He let his eyes roam over Vincent's body before they fell upon his pale throat. "Does it hurt?"

Vincent tilted his head to the side again. "Does what hurt?"

Vilkas moved his free hand to the base of Vincent's neck without thinking. Vincent instantly flinched, and tensed up so Vilkas pulled his hand away quickly. The reaction was slightly alarming to Vilkas and he tucked that knowledge away.

"Sorry."

"I-it's fine. You just surprised me is all." Vincent grabbed his hand quickly, as if to make up for his behavior and placed it back at the base of his neck. "I also told you not to apologize. It just doesn't suit you. To answer your question, no. It doesn't hurt."

Vilkas eyed him, slightly wary but Vincent simply smiled and gently rubbed the top of Vilkas' palm with his thumb. Vilkas cautiously moved his fingers to caress each mark, taking in Vincent's reactions. To his pleasure he saw Vincent lean into his touch instead of recoil. He was inwardly relived at this, especially after the flinching display.

"This is okay?" He still felt the need to ask.

Vincent nodded. "Yes. I trust you."

He was glad to hear that. Much more glad he thought he'd be. His thumb gently touched the biggest mark and he heard Vincent hiss slightly at the contact.

"Doesn't hurt, hun?"

"That one does a bit…but you did draw blood."

"Right." A moment of silence filtered between them. Vilkas felt the need to explain himself…to explain to Vincent what he had done. They were to be mates now and he didn't even think the mage knew it. If he found out…would he run away? The thought actually scared Vilkas but he couldn't keep something so major to himself. "Listen, Vincent…about this mark…It's-"

"I know what it is." Vincent cut him off.

Vilkas blinked slightly surprised. "You do?"

"Yes. It's a mate mark. You've marked me to be your mate. Right?"

"Well…Aye…but how did you know this already?"

Vincent looked at him seriously. Vilkas tried to ignore the obvious, Are you stupid, look that came to the mage's features. "I read a lot of books, Vilkas. I've read quite a few on wolves and werewolves. I know what you've done."

Well…shit. Vilkas bit back the apology that was forming. He'd already been reminded about it once today. "Are you mad?"

Vincent thought for a moment, tapping his chin with a gloved hand as if thinking hard about his question. "No."

Vilkas inwardly relaxed and bit back a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Why did you do it, Vilkas…?" The redhead's smile became slightly coy. "I thought you didn't like me or my magic."

Vilkas huffed. "I still don't like your magic."

"But you like me?"

"Aye."

"Say it then."

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Do I really have to?"

Vincent chuckled and wrapped his arms around Vilkas' neck. "No, but I'd like to hear it."

Vilkas grumbled under his breath. "I'd rather not. You already know so there's no point in me saying it."

"Such a wet blanket, Vilkas."

"What?"

"Never mind. It's good enough." Vincent leaned in and gave Vilkas' lips a soft kiss before pulling back. When Vilkas gave a soft growl in annoyance, it made Vincent laugh. Then his laughter faded and his smile became slightly somber. "You really want to be mates with me?"

"I don't really have a choice now."

Vincent frowned slightly. "Vilkas…"

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "No. I'm not sure Vincent. I did what I did on instinct. My wolf wanted you to be my mate and so do I…doesn't mean I'm sure I made the right decision."

The frown slid from his face and was replaced with a neutral look. "Okay, I can understand that." He rested his cheek against the side of Vilkas' head and sighed. "You'll protect me right?"

Vilkas paused for a moment. It was an odd question seeing as the mage could clearly take care of himself. "What do you mean?"

Vincent raised his hand to run it through Vilkas' hair and almost made the other man purr. Almost. "If I'm in trouble…you'll protect me right?"

"As my mate, Aye. I'd protect you even if you weren't though, seeing as the companions look out for one another. However since you're mine, I'd hold your safety a lot closer then others."

"I'm yours, hum?"

He could hear slight amusement in Vincent's voice when he spoke so he growled and held Vincent possessively. "Aye. You're mine."

"I can deal with that." he giggled and threaded his fingers through Vilkas' hair. "I'll do my best to be a good mate then."

Thanks the gods. Vincent excepted this. He wasn't going to run away. Now Vilkas could finally relax. He felt his wolf also subconsciously relax and let out a contented growl. He shut his eyes and decided to enjoy the feeling of Vincent's fingers running through his hair.

"You like this?" Vincent asked wrapping his fingers around Vilkas' ebony colored locks.

"Aye." He let his hand slide down from Vincent's back to his hip. "Feels good."

"Ah, yes…it felt good when you were petting me a week ago…remember? The day you marked me…"

"Aye."

"Hmmm…well…except you did this."

A sudden sharp tug to his scalp caused a rather loud growl to erupt from his throat and he cast a glare in the mage's direction. Vincent smiled innocently although his hand was still tightly coiled in Vilkas' hair. His fingers tightened on Vincent's hip in slight retaliation.

"That hurt."

"It did when you did it to me too." Vincent retorted. "If I remember correctly though, you near tore my hair out."

"That was an accident."

"You kept pulling it."

"You liked it."

Vincent shrugged. "It's an interesting feeling when you're in the heat of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yea-AHHEH!" Vincent yelped as Vilkas' hand shot up like lighting and grabbed the back of his head and pulled his hair.

Vincent huffed and swatted at him. Vilkas took the blow in favor of pulling again and shoving Vincent against him. Their bodies fused together and no space could be seen between them. Vincent tried to retaliate by pulling Vilkas' hair again but it didn't seem to be affecting Vilkas in the same way. Vilkas parted his legs just slightly under the redhead's weight and shifted his hips. The rough housing was starting to get him a bit excited…

"Vilkas, is Vincent u- oh."

Vilkas' eyes snapped open to address the intruder in the doorway. Skjor stared back at him slightly embarrassed at the sight before him. Vilkas supposed he couldn't blame him. Vilkas was not known as an affectionate person, so to witness him with a grown man in his lap in a rather intimate position would embarrass anyone. (Maybe not Aela) Vilkas could feel his own embarrassment starting to rise but Vincent hadn't moved off his lap yet. He was currently resisting the urge to shove him off to regain some composer. He did however take his hands out of the mage's hair in favor of gripping the chair he sat in instead.

"Skjor?" Vilkas attempted to keep a tone of indifference.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting. I wanted to check on Vincent."

"He's fine." Vilkas' voice had a sharp edge to it but he tried to keep the hostility from it. You have the worst timing Skjor….

Skjor coughed awkwardly. "So, I see."

Vincent detangled himself from Vilkas carefully and stood up. He straightened out is coat, possibly to hide his front. He walked up to Skjor and smiled politely at the older man.

"I'm well. Thank you for checking up on me."

"Yeah…about that. Can we talk, Vincent?"

"You ARE talking." Vilkas interjected, keeping his seat but placing his hands covertly in his own lap.

"Privately."

Vilkas almost growled but swallowed it. He looked to Vincent with a slightly sour look on his face. Vincent's lips thinned out into a straight line but nodded to Vilkas. Then turned back to Skjor.

"Sure."

Skjor nodded and showed himself out. Vilkas stood instantly when he vanished from the door frame and grabbed Vincent's arm before he could follow.

"Vincent, are you sure this is wise? Do you remember what happened the last time he talked to you alone?"

"Don't worry, Vilkas." The mage soothed. "He's on thin ice with Kodlak and you…" he paused at the look Vilkas was giving him. "…okay, more then thin ice with you. Just trust me…okay?"

Vilkas sighed and loosened his grip. "Okay."

Vincent smiled like the cheeky bastard he was. "If he tries to talk me into anything, I'll scream really loud like a girl and you can come rescue me. Okay?"

Vilkas raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Joking, dear." He patted Vilkas' arm. "But seriously…everything will be okay. I'll call for you if there's trouble. Alright?"

"Alright."

"Thank you." Vincent leaned up to place a caste kiss on his lips. Before Vilkas could lean in, Vincent put his gloved fingers between their mouths and halted him. "Later…I promise." Then he followed after Skjor. Vilkas leaned on the doorframe with his arms crossed and watched him go. His lips still tingled from the innocent peck, as he recalled Vincent's words. Gods save you Skjor, if you hurt him again. Gods save you…  
\------

"Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Vincent." Skjor began when they were up in the main hall.

Athis and Ria were setting up for the coronation party tonight. They waved at Vincent when they came topside and the mage had politely waved back. Athis had come over to shake his hand and congratulate him on his new promotion. Everyone knew he was secretly a little jealous though. Ria gave him a quick hug, happy that he was feeling better from his fever. (After all, no one but the circle could know.) After they went back to work and left the two men to their business.

They sat on a bench near by so they wouldn't get in the way of the others working. "They are working so hard on this. Where is everyone else?"

"Njada and Aela are out hunting for meat and Farkas and Torvar are out buying the mead, Gods help us. Kodlak is having Eorlund make you something I think and I'm organizing the whole thing. We left Vilkas to care for you."

"He did well."

"Yes…" Skjor cleared his throat. "How…is Vilkas?"

"Angry." Vincent answered immediately and looked down at his lap. "He has every right to be."

"Vincent…again, I'm so sorry for what happened. It wasn't meant to be like that…You understand why I voted against you being in the circle right?"

"Yes." Their tones lowered so other occupants of the room would not over hear. "I'm not like you…so you need to protect your secret. It's easy for someone who isn't inflicted to casually drop the secret in conversation."

"…I have a feeling you're being slightly sarcastic."

Vincent shrugged. "You should have had more faith in me, Skjor. You should have told me your real motives and why you did what you had. I would have understood." His copper eyes lifted and set themselves on Skjor's face. "Skjor, I forgive you. I've said so already but I reserve the right to be a little angry at you. As for Vilkas…he…cares about me. If someone you were close to was lied to and almost died in the process, wouldn't you be angry as well…?"

Skjor sighed. "Yes. I'd be furious."

"Let Vilkas cool his head." Vincent smiled then and the tension seemed to ease from the room. "He's fiery and passionate deep down as I'm sure you've noticed. The fact that he's letting us speak alone already means he's not as mad as he was."

"You've come to learn how Vilkas ticks very quickly over a very short period of time. How long as it been since you showed up here?"

Vincent thought for a moment. "Two and a half months now."

"Yet you've risen to the circle before people who have been here longer then you."

"…You chose that for me…then almost denied me it."

"Again, I apologize. We just…have many enemies, Vincent. The silver hand, the vigilant of Stendar… if they ever found out… I was just trying to protect us. To protect ALL of us. I didn't lie when I said you would be like family. We protect one another and we would all die to protect you, circle or not."

The mage fell silent for a moment but let out a soft sigh. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now…I'm sure you want to get back to Vilkas soon…so.."

"Before we part ways…" The mage interrupted. "…I'd like to ask you a question."

"Sure…"

"You and Aela think that this…infliction is a gift."

"Right."

"But Kodlak, Vilkas and Farkas don't think that way. Kodlak told me he wants to cure himself of it. He wants to go to Sovngarde when he dies. What about you? You're a Nord and a warrior. Don't you want to go to Sovngarde?"

Skjor chuckled. "I'm being asked this by a Breton."

Vincent huffed slightly. "What race I am has nothing to do with the question. Sovngarde is supposed to be a place you can drink, feast and fight. A warrior's paradise. When I die, I am not sure I would be welcomed to such a place because of my magic. Many of the Nords and warriors consider it dishonorable."

"It has it's uses."

"Anyway," Vincent continued "Because of your beast blood you will be dragged to a Daedra's hunting ground. Is that what you want?"

"I heard it is not unlike Sovngarde. You get to run and be one with the beast and hunt beside the Daedra lord Hircine for all eternity. It is not a bad afterlife. Aela looks forward to it."

"And you?"

"…I think I would be comfortable there."

"Then I wish you the best." Vincent stood up and looked down at the balding Nord. "I respect your opinion, Skjor but if I can help Kodlak find a way to cure this, I will. He wants to be cured and I think the twins do to. I'll leave you and Aela out of it but if you change your minds…"

"We'll go to you. No worries."

"Good."

"You really care about them. Kodlak and the twins, I mean."

Vincent swayed slightly in place. "Kodlak let me in, Farkas welcomed me and Vilkas keeps me. They are all important to me…as is everyone here."

"Right and I know I don't really have to ask this, because of the 'Vilkas keeps me' part and that little uncomfortable number I walked in on, but are the two of you…together?"

"I guess so." Vincent rubbed his neck, suddenly nervous. His gloved hand grazed over the mark and he almost shivered. He could still remember the feel of Vilkas' mouth against his flesh, biting and kissing. His hands had felt like they were everywhere, touching and groping. He'd almost come undone by those hands…

"Vilkas is a good kid. Passionate as you said and quick to anger. Yet neither of us would trade him for the world, would we?"

Vincent's lips curved up into more of an easy smile. "No."

"Glad to hear it. Now go on, I'm sure Vilkas is waiting for you."

\--------------  
Vilkas was abruptly pulled out of the room by an energetic mage and lead down into the town of Whiterun. Vincent had held his hand the whole way down to the town center and he was surprisingly unembarrassed. Vincent hadn't explained what he and Skjor were talking about but he did seem to return in a better mood.

"What's going on?" He felt the need to ask.

"I haven't been outside in days." Vincent laughed. "I actually miss the sun."

Vilkas looked up at the sky and gave a snort. "It's grey out."

"It's still daylight."

They found themselves outside the town and down by a small creek. They had settled next to some nirnroot, which Vincent abruptly picked and stashed away. Alchemists…. Well at least the noise it made stopped.

Vilkas watched some of the local children play near the stabled and the khajiit try to peddle their wares. It was almost an eerie calm. In the back of his mind, he had that odd feeling that they were being watched but when his wolfish eyes scanned the landscape he found them ignored. No one even looked up at the pair as they went on with their day.

"I lied to you…"

Vilkas turned to the redhead. "What?"

"I lied to you…about my mother…and how she died."

Vilkas wasn't really sure what to say. Somewhere deep down he knew the fate that had befell Vincent's mother was none of his business in the first place, but the mage must have thought it important to bring it up again.

"How did she die then?"

Vincent took a deep uneasy breath. "When we got to Daggerfall, we didn't really have any money left. Mother had saved just enough to get us a rundown little cottage. We didn't have enough for food or water or anything… Grace needed medicine and care…it was starting to look really bad. Then, mother would…disappear for a few hours and then come back with money. I was too young to understand how she was getting it and all I knew is that it was keeping us fed, so I was happy."

Vilkas felt like he was going to regret this but… "What was she doing?"

"Whoring."

"Oh." He knew he'd regret it.

"Mother was beautiful despite her age…" Vincent rested his head on Vilkas' shoulder before continuing. " Dark red hair and blue eyes as clear as the sea… She found clients easily enough. One day though, she came home as normal. We ate, we talked and then she put my sister and I to bed. I woke up to hear her crying that night. I think she was always disgusted at herself for what she had to do to feed her children. I'm sure she thought she was betraying father's memory too. As I grew older…I just knew that's what she was doing and she knew that I knew. I think, that made her feel even more ashamed."

"Is your mother dead, Vincent? Or did you leave?" He wasn't sure how much of what Vincent had told him before was a lie.

"No. She's dead. She died only a short time after. Most of what I told you was truth. I was thirteen when it happened. I was old enough to help out on farms so I could bring in some income too. Mother was happy because it meant she didn't have to take so many clients now. Although, one day she pulled me aside while Grace slept and told me a client had gotten her pregnant. She wasn't showing yet but it was only a matter of time and she wanted to know what to tell Grace when she asked."

Vilkas sat silent and waited. The redhead looked like he was struggling with the next part so Vilkas decided to speak up. "If you don't want to tell me the rest you don't have to."

"No…it's okay. I'm just… trying to figure out how to explain this." he shut his copper eyes for a moment. "It was two months later…mother was starting to show just slightly but still managed to keep it hidden from Grace. She made me promise not to tell her because she wanted to be the one to do it. She went out…like normal that night. I was coming home around the same time she was. From a distance I saw her talking to a cloaked man. He was tall…taller then most. I thought it might be a Nord or something. Then they both walked to the back of the house. I didn't want to interrupt mother if she was…working…but a part of me wanted to investigate. Something didn't sit right."

"What happened then?"

"First, I checked on Grace. She was up, knitting a shawl for mother. I waited about five minutes before deciding to investigate. I stood at the side of the house and waited. I tried listening but I didn't hear anything. I figured that man would have to walk back this way because behind our house was just a small yard and a wall scaling over twenty feet up. He never came back that way. I eventually gathered enough courage to peek around the house and that's where I found her."

"Murdered for her money?"

Vincent's mouth tensed and his eyes clouded over with the memory. "Not quite. She had been killed." He admitted. "Her throat had been slit and her stomach cut open. They took the baby from her womb and left her lying open like that."

Vilkas' eyes widened. "W-what..?"

"There was no chance the baby could have survived. It was too young for it to even be developed yet. That man must have been the parent of the unborn child. Maybe a rich man who didn't want some peasant woman giving birth to his kid. So he taught her a lesson or…had someone teach her a lesson and disposed of the evidence."

Vilkas had a strong stomach but at that moment he felt like he could have vomited. "You and your sister…?"

"The town took the house away and shipped us both off to an orphanage near by. Like I said, the place was overflowing with kids who's parents had died or they had just flat out been abandoned. There wasn't enough beds for everyone or meals to go around so I tried to help by taking jobs around town. Grace's medicine had to be taken after all and any left over money I had went right to the orphanage to help."

"It was nice of you."

"It's where I had to live."

"When you turned eighteen did you leave?"

"I was only there till sixteen…and then…we got adopted."

"That's nice."

"…."

"Vincent..?"

The red head looked up at him. "A man named Cadrian adopted me and my sister. He was a rich man but had no wife or children. He only wanted me but I refused to go without Grace. He finally consented. Grace died a few years later and I left when I was nineteen. I've been wandering ever since."

"It was nice of him to adopt you."

"…" Vincent looked off into the distance, his mouth caught between a grimace and a scowl. "I would have rather stayed at the orphanage."

Vilkas blinked. Odd…"What?"

"I didn't like the look of him. I should have never gone with him in the first place but I was trying to think of Grace. She could benefit from leading an easy life."

"The sickness got her anyway?"

Vincent's eyes shot up to Vilkas' and the look in his eyes almost told him everything. The sound of the 'no' that echoed in Vilkas' subconscious was almost deafening. So he awkwardly pet Vincent on the back and forced an uneasy smile.

"We don't need to talk about this now. It's supposed to be a celebration tonight right?"

Vincent gave a soft look of relief and nuzzled Vilkas' shoulder. "I promise, I'll tell you the whole story someday."

"Okay." That was more then good enough for him at the moment. "It is getting late and you are the guest of honor. If you're not at your own coronation, there will be hell to pay."

Vincent laughed "yeah…everyone worked so hard."

Vilkas was inwardly relived to hear him laugh. He had told that story in such a sad tone… Vilkas stood and took Vincent's hand again. "Come on then. We're expected."

They made there way back up to the town gates and the whole way there Vilkas still had his feeling of unease. It wasn't until they passed the gates and were safely back in town, did he feel like he was no longer being watched.  
\------  
"Three cheers for Vincent!" Torvar called, already plastered within two hours after the party began. He got Ria, Farkas and Athis to join him in the cheers. Vincent blushed the color of his hair and sipped at his mead. Vilkas had the feeling he was still a bit mopey from the story he'd told Vilkas earlier so he held the redhead's hand under the table. It was a small show of his affection and it seemed to make him smile. So, a little awkward attention, giggles and pointing was well worth it.

The night progressed without much issue. Kodlak and Eorlund presented Vincent with a beautifully crafted Skyforge dagger. Aela had given him a whole elk as his coronation feast. The mage's eyes widened as she slammed it down on the feasting table and made the whole thing shake. Vincent thanked her but barely ate any of it though. He offered the rest to his new brothers and sisters, much to the joy of the table. As the party went on long into the night and some people were beginning to pass out where they stood, did Kodlak announce that everyone should try to go get some rest.

Skjor leaned over to a very drunk Vincent and an only slightly sober Vilkas. "Hey, Vincent. I know you're a member of the circle and all now but we still don't have your own room for you yet. Kodlak was talking about making eventually renovations but…"

"Not to worry." Vilkas piped up. "He's staying with me."

"Ah, good, good. Listen Vincent, Aela and I would like to invite you on a hunt tomorrow night. You want to come?"

Vincent looked at Vilkas for a moment. Vilkas still had some distrust in his heart but he knew they wouldn't do anything to hurt him again…and if they did…they better not ever come back here. Vilkas nodded slowly.

"Okay." Vincent answered after.

"Alright then. Go get some rest you two. I'll see you both in the morning if I don't have a god's awful hangover."

 

Vilkas had to help Vincent down the stairs and the redhead wobbled with every step.

"That'll show me to drink Nord mead…" He slurred slightly and clinging to Vilkas for dear life.

"You did have ten of them."

"Ten? How'd ya know?"

"I was counting."

Vincent giggled like a drunk fool. "Spend lots of time watching' me drink?"

A nearly perverted answer came to him but he corrected himself with a, "No. Just tonight I did. You were sick before." Nice cover, Vilkas. Now lets not think of the redhead's lips wrapped on something else.

He led Vincent into his room and made the mage sit on the bed. He moved to pull out a bedroll he'd slept on during the time Vincent had been sick, but the mage grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Where ya going…?"

"To bed?"

"I'm sitting on it."

"Aye, you are."

His wrist was pulled and Vincent smiled coyly…something he did surprisingly well even though he was drunk. "Then come to bed."

An invitation. Clearly. His wolf wanted to pounce on him and get it over with but Vilkas hesitated. Vincent was drunk after all… "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He giggled. "I'd like to sleep next to you."

Well with an offer like that…how could he refuse? He took off his boots, sword and armor and set them up on a stand. Vincent seemed to just realize how clothed he was and removed his coat, boots and gloves. He folded the coat with care and placed them atop a table. He put his gloves on top and his boots next to Vilkas'. Then he waited on the bed as Vilkas pulled out a basin and washed his war paint off. When he came back, Vincent scooted over to make room for him. There was plenty of room for both of them however so it wasn't a big deal. They were both still clothed, but it felt very intimate. 

Vilkas had just got settled and laid down, when he felt a hand rest against his cheek. "Aye?"

"You have pretty blue eyes."

"Oh yeah?" Vilkas cracked a smile and decided to amuse the drunk. "I had no idea."

"Oh hush." Vincent stuck out his tongue. "I always saw you with the war paint on. The black made your eyes seem darker but now…they are like ice."

"Is that a good thing?"

Vincent shrugged. "I suppose so. It's pretty."

"Thank you, then."

The red head's arms quickly wrapped around him and he snuggled in close. Vilkas looked down at him, only to meet his eyes. He watched Vincent lean up and try to press their mouths together but being as drunk as he is, misjudged distance. Vilkas chuckled and decided to assist him.

Vilkas could taste the mead on his lips but didn't find it displeasing. There was still enough of what made Vincent taste so unique, left behind. Vincent's smell had invaded his senses like a tidal wave and nearly drowned him in the sudden euphoria. His arms quickly encircled the mage and held him close while their lips pressed tightly together. It felt natural to kiss the mage and somewhere in the back of his head, Vilkas knew he'd made the right choice. Nothing could ruin this moment now…

Except for the loud yawn that erupted from Vincent's mouth and made them break lip contact. Vilkas' huffed and tried to look down at him annoyed but was really quite amused.

"Am I keeping you up?"

Vincent swatted his arm and let loose another loud yawn. "Hush. I'm drunk. I get very sleepy when I'm drunk."

"Then sleep."

"I'm ganna…" The redhead muttered and rested his head on Vilkas' strong chest. "You're probably going to have to wake me too…I sleep like a brick when I'm wasted."

"Aye, fine. Sleep." He put a hand in Vincent's hair and gently pet him until the Mage's breathing evened out into a steady soft rhythm.

He glanced down to examine the Mage's face while he slept. The past few days his cheeks had been feverish and his sleep uneasy. It was nice to see him sleeping well. Vincent didn't even stir when Vilkas ran his fingers through his crimson locks.

_'He must look like his mother…all that's missing is the blue eyes. She must have been so beautiful, because he's….'_

Vilkas let his train of thought fade as he wrapped his arms around Vincent instead. He held the Mage close throughout the night and closed his eyes uneasily. A woman murdered, her unborn child stolen and a small traumatized thirteen year old left to pick up the pieces. There was something missing here and that man…Cadrian. Vincent had spoken his name with such ill tone. What had that man done? His mind was still buzzing with unanswered questions and he prayed for sleep.


	10. Easy as alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent's heart felt like it jumped up into his throat. "Why would he hurt himself like that?" the words felt cruel and ironic on his own tongue but this was about Vilkas and not himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon character death. Violence and kinda gross imagery.

\----  
\---  
\--

Vincent decided that he liked waking up next to Vilkas. His eyes had opened first, surprisingly. He expected to at least sleep until noon due to the amount of alcohol he had induced the previous night at his coronation. It took his slightly hazy brain a moment to realize where he was and why he felt so warm. He was curled up against Vilkas' body with the Nord's arms around him.

With some difficulty due to being pressed tightly against Vilkas' chest (not that he minded) he managed to lift his head to look at the sleeping Nord's face. His expression was relaxed as he breathed evenly, evidence of an easy sleep. Vincent took the rare moment to marvel his features and take in every curve. He was handsome, Vincent concluded. Very Handsome. It was sometimes hard to tell because he usually wore an angry scowl or a mask of bitter indifference. Vincent wanted to reach out and touch his face but also didn't want to wake him. This was most likely a very rare sight and he decided to take full advantage of it.

Vilkas had a scholars look about him. He was manly but still possessed a slightly nerd-like edge to his features. His brother, at quick glace, seemed rough weathered in his features, despite them being twins. Vincent had seen Vilkas wield a two handed broad sword so he knew the man wasn't weak like most scholars. He might just spend more time reading and less time fighting. He could defiantly hold his own and Vincent had no doubts about that. His lashes were not too long but long enough to rest against his cheeks as he slept. Vincent often cursed his own long lashes. They often got in his eyes and in his opinion, made him look entirely too girly for his liking.

His lips were thinner then most Nord's he encountered and his features were much softer. When Vincent had first arrived in Skyrim, among the first Nord's he'd met looked more like cavemen. They had been bandits and Vincent had put them in their place of course.

Vincent sighed and stared back down at Vilkas' chest, satisfied with the observations he had made. He'd never really pictured himself with a man like Vilkas…or really anyone for that matter. He felt…happy. True, he was always trying to be optimistic but it had been a long time since he had been truly happy. His marred hand lifted slightly and he gazed at the jagged burns that tarnished his pale flesh. He thought of Grace and wondered if he had any right to be happy. She would have wanted him to and made him promise as much… But he couldn't help but feel guilty. Gods above, he missed her.

He felt Vilkas stir and put his hand back down quickly and sure enough those icy blue eyes slowly cracked open and peered about quickly. A predator's eyes…always looking for danger even in its own den. Then they fell on Vincent and the spark of recognition flared in his sharp yet sleep filled hues.

"Hi." Vincent started awkwardly with a silly smile. He'd never really woken up beside anyone other then family before.

"Hi." Vilkas stated back, his voice slightly husky from sleep. Vincent would have lied if he said he didn't like the sound.

He almost blushed right there but decided to hide his face in Vilkas' chest instead. He breathed in deep on instant and took in Vilkas' scent. He smelt like sweat, snow, musk and slightly of dog. Despite the dog part, Vincent found the smell pleasing. He ran one of his marred hands through the hair on Vilkas' chest and pressed closer to him if possible.

"Do I stink?" Vilkas asked, slight amusement adding itself to his voice.

"No. I like this smell."

"You like Nord smell?" Vilkas scoffed and he put a hand in Vincent's hair. "You'd be the first outside our race. Farkas will be thrilled to hear it."

"Not Nord smell." Vincent turned his copper eyes up to meet icy blue ones. "Just yours. You smell different then most."

"Withdrawn. Farkas will not be thrilled." He detangled himself from Vincent's frame and sat up in bed, stretching. Vincent secretly missed the warmth. "If you want to smell bad Nord smell, go sniff Farkas in the morning. When we were younger I woke up to his pits in my face before. Gods awful."

Vincent laughed and gazed up at his form, admiring how his muscles moved as he stretched. He mentally cursed himself for feeling like a thirteen year old girl, fawning over the boy she liked. Seriously? What was wrong with him? He'd never behaved this way before…He shook his head and sat up too.

"You have a big day today." Vilkas spoke looking at the wall and his tone suddenly becoming deadpanned.

Vincent rolled his eyes. Here we go… "Everything will be fine, Vilkas. Skjor and Aela wouldn't let anything happen to me."

Vilkas' head suddenly whirled in his direction and glared at him. "Say again?"

Great…. "Vilkas. Stop. We've gotten over that. Let it go."

"How can you let it go? They almost killed you."

"It was not intentional and they apologized for hurting me. It's over and I'm fine Vilkas. Let's not get into this again."

He could tell Vilkas was about to protest so he decided to silence him. He grabbed hold of Vilkas' face and planted a kiss on his open mouth. It only took a moment for the anger to fade from Vilkas' face as he pressed back into it. Well, that worked. Perhaps he should try it more often when they fight. He was sure a whole other argument about how _'Magic is evil and only corrupts',_ would come up again sooner or later. Perhaps that'd be a good way to defuse that situation.

When Vincent pulled away, he laughed as Vilkas followed closely after his retreat and pressed their mouths together again.

"H-hey…" The mage tried to protest and managed to free his mouth from Vilkas'. He took to an elbow as he leaned back further to escape. Not that he really wanted to but he did have something to do today. Unchecked, he could stay in here with Vilkas for hours, doing…things. His face reddened just thinking about it. Vilkas didn't say a word at Vincent's second attempt at retreating. A low growl escaped his throat and a shiver rippled down Vincent's spine like lighting. He could feel the heat rushing other places then his face at that growl.

_'Seriously?! A Growl?! A growl has you all hot and bothered?! Grow up, Vincent Renalt!'_

Although it was a rather sexy sounding growl, he had to admit. Great, now he's arguing with himself. Vilkas did not seem contented to leave Vincent with his thoughts and ended up attacking Vincent's lips with his own again, thus ending any internal conflict the mage was having.

Vincent was closest to the wall on Vilkas' bed so there was only so far he could lean back from the hunter. At least he had no fear of toppling off the other side. Sure enough, Vincent found himself pressed against the bed with Vilkas' weight atop him. Trapped easily. He wasn't very good prey, it seemed. He chuckled against Vilkas' mouth and pushed on his chest lightly.

He seemed to at least get a reaction out of Vilkas with the push. "Hum?" The Nord questioned, in more of a grunt then an actual response.

"Shouldn't we be getting up?" Vincent smiled serenely up at him. Vincent didn't mean it as so but the statement may have come out more cynical then suggestive. Why'd he always have to be a wise ass? He was prepared for a scowl but was quite pleased when a small smile appeared on Vilkas' face.

"In a while." he spoke softly briefly before their lips connected again.  
\----

Vincent managed to pull himself away after a time with much needed effort and a little extra embarrassment. Gods knew he'd been perfectly content with Vilkas all day but he was trying to repair some damaged bridges with his fellow circle mates. It's really the only reason he agreed to go on this _'hunt'_. He didn't even like hunting. Killing for survival and food was one thing but killing for sport, just seemed wrong to him. Once quickly washed and dressed in his normal attire, he set about his routine for today at least. He knew he'd be traveling by day so he put on the cream so he wouldn't burn his skin. He could feel his stomach starting to burn and knew it was only a matter of time before a coughing fit started.

He checked his knapsack while Vilkas went off to bathe. He didn't like taking his medicine in front of Vilkas. He could feel an eye of scrutiny whenever he did, and he knew Vilkas was curious about it. Vincent just…wasn't ready to tell him. Not until he knew how Vilkas would react. Part of him knew that he would never know exactly how Vilkas _would_ react, and that he was just stalling out of fear.

_'I really like Vilkas. I don't want him to run away.'_

At least that's what Vincent told himself. Vilkas didn't seem the type that would run from anything, though. Push it away, yes, but he had yet to do so to Vincent. Maybe he had tried in the beginning, but those were weak attempts. Vilkas seemed ready to move forward and yet Vincent was not convinced.

"Someday soon." He muttered on his breath as he dug through his vials and reagents. He popped the lid off one and drank down the foul tasting elixir. He almost gagged at the stench and the burn it left down his throat. Yet, the burn in his stomach settled and he smiled, slightly pained in relief. He wondered sometimes if this was all worth it but knew deep down that it was.

He recapped the vial and placed it aside and then he took stock of what he had left. Two vials left and not enough ingredients to make more. The two left would at least last him the week and while out on the hunt he could try to find the missing ingredients for a fresh batch. All that Nirnroot he'd got had helped, and as soon as he found the last few key ingredients, he'd have enough to make a months worth, at least.

Vincent closed his bag and left it aside. He knew Vilkas would respect his privacy and not pry through his things…at least for now. Not that Vilkas seemed to know what all the ingredients did anyway, nor did Vincent have anything really incriminating on his person.

Vincent managed to find a looking glass and once deciding that he looked presentable, went out in search of Skjor and Aela. Vilkas finally managed to locate Aela in the courtyard. They had possibly told him were to meet up last night but he had been far too drunk to remember. All he remembered is that is was supposed to be early. Now mid-day, he had dropped the ball on that one.

Aela was alone in the courtyard, waiting for Vincent to show up by the looks of it. She had her arms crossed and when she spotted him walking from across the yard, a slightly coy smile appeared on her face.

"Good afternoon Vincent. You're late."

"Yes, I apologize."

Her smile widened knowingly. "Vilkas kept you distracted?"

Vincent felt his face heat up quickly. "H-how did you…?"

She pointed to his neck and Vincent's gaze flickered down. The top button of his coat and shirt were open and little red marks ran up his neck and collarbone before vanishing below his shirt line. HOW THE HELL HAD HE MISSED THOSE?! He let out an involuntary squawk of indignation and pulled the top of his coat and shirt closed. By the way she was smiling, he sure the ones high in his neck must still be slightly visible. Damnit, Vilkas!

He pouted at her. "Where is Skjor?" He decided to change the subject.

"Well, since you were so late he went to go scout out the area that we will be going. We'll make it there before the sun sets." she dusted herself off and looked the mage over. "Are you armed?"

"I have a mace, yes." Rarely used but it was on his person. He could feel the tell-tale weight of the cumbersome object in his coat.

"Good. You'll need it. Let's be off."

He followed her out of Whiterun and down the large hill the city sat atop. He walked with her in silence for a few hours, only stopping to watch her shoot wolves and other unsightly creatures. He mentioned he could help her and she just chuckled.

"Wait for tonight. Save your energy."

He began to wonder just what he was going to be hunting… Whatever it was, he had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to like it one bit. Maybe it was a bear…A BIG ass bear. It would have to be large if Aela and Skjor wanted to hunt it. Vincent knew bears were dangerous but he found wildlife rather cute. The wolves, bears, foxes, rabbits, deer….mammoths… They were all cute in their own way. Then again, Vincent had always had a soft spot for animals and children. Innocent creatures all softened his heart. Although the only wildlife here that seemed friendly were the deer, rabbits and foxes. Everything else seemed out to get him.

"So, Vincent." Aela began walking back a step so she could keep Vincent's pace. "How are things?"

Vincent looked over to her and decided he didn't like her smile. She was obviously prying for information and doing a bad job of it. Skjor must be the smoother talker. He already basically knew what she wanted to know and knew there was no way to avoid telling her. He knew there was no way around it because she would pry until he slipped up, but he decided to play along for now.

"Everything is fine."

"Feeling better?"

"Much. Thank you."

"How are things between you and Vilkas?"

That didn't take her long. He rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"Good." There was a moment of silence between them. The only sound heard was the distant call of a wolf and the sound of the snow crunching beneath their feet. Then she dropped the bomb. "Have you slept with him yet?"

Vincent almost tripped over his own feet but managed to catch himself. He stumbled only slightly but it was enough to make her chuckle at his expense. He whirled his entire body to face her, his cheeks getting slightly red. "Excuse me?"

She kept walking, getting ahead of him easily. "You heard me and keep up pace or we'll never get there."

Vincent snapped out of his daze quickly and jogged to catch up to her again. "It's an odd question to ask out of the blue, Aela."

"Not odd." She looked straight ahead and tapped her chin.

"Yes odd." He corrected with a slight scowl. "It's really none of your business."

"Don't be such a prude, Vincent." He heard her chuckle. "Sex is a natural thing and it's only natural to give in."

"You sound like a mother trying to give her son a sex talk."

She shrugged his comment off. "So be it. Out with it."

"No. Not yet." He gave in to her wish and huffed. They had come close today. The memory of Vilkas' warm hands and mouth still lingered in the back of his consciousness and it made him shudder at the thought. His hot mouth licking and nipping at his neck while both of his big hands were threaded in his crimson red hair. Their clothed hips had clashed together in a frenzy, desperate for more tight friction. Vilkas had made the most amazing thick husky growl sounds that nearly made Vincent come undone… Yet, Kodlak coughing up a lung, not even a room away put a damper on their fervor. They had both stopped moving abruptly with the reminder of how easy it would be to have someone walk in on them. When it did happen, Vincent wanted it to be in private. It was an intimate moment he planned on sharing with the other man, and those where best done behind closed doors.

"Really?" She asked pulling him out of his thoughts. "I'm…surprised."

He walked a bit faster to walk side by side with her. "Surprised? How so?"

"Vilkas already marked you for a mate. I just assumed."

"I see."

"I figured he would have held you down and dominated you already. I'm honestly surprised at him."

Vincent sputtered at her boldness. "I don't think this is very appropriate conversation to be having about Vilkas!"

"I think it's rather appropriate. He's like a blood brother to me and I worry about him. It is not good for him to suppress his sexual desire like that." Vincent felt his face heating up again and his hid face in his hands. He trusted Aela not to lead him into a tree as she continued. "His wolf is already gnawing at the bit to be let out. If he keeps suppressing the beast and his primal desires he's most likely going to hurt himself."

"Aela…"

"And now that he's marked you as a mate…"

"Aela…"

"…It's going to be harder for him…"

"Please stop…"

"…and for you." She added with a nudge and a smirk which made him feel like he wanted to die. This was so Gods Damn embarrassing.

Then again, he really shouldn't be surprised about how blunt she was. The woman was barely wearing a shirt, after all. She was close to the beast and he wouldn't be surprised to find out that she delved into the more primal instincts. She thankfully dropped the subject for now and continued walking in silence.

He starred at her back as he thought about what she said. He didn't know too much about werewolves. He only knew the essentials. How to kill them, the mating marks, the disease itself and how it's normally contracted… Nothing about their actual mating habits or how being a werewolf can affect one's psyche. Was Vilkas hurting himself by holding the wolf back so much?

"Aela?"

"Yes, Vincent?"

"Is it really hurting him?" The joking was done now. Vincent's voice was edged with deep rooted concern for the other man's well being, and he knew that Aela knew it. Her smile was gone when she looked over her shoulder to make eye contact.

"It's different for each one of us. Personally, I need those primal instincts. I am close to my wolf and we are like one. Vilkas…" She sighed. "It is different. He suppresses the wolf and bites back anything that may sate the wolf's appetite. I've seen him grit his teeth once or twice in pain. I do think it is taking a toll on his body and mind."

Vincent's heart felt like it jumped up into his throat. "Why would he hurt himself like that?" the words felt cruel and ironic on his own tongue, but this was about Vilkas and not himself.

"Pride." Aela answered quickly. "Foolish Nord pride. He thinks suppressing the beast will save his soul from damnation in the afterlife but he is only hurting himself."

"Maybe he hates living as a werewolf." Vincent countered. "The transformations must be just as painful as suppressing."

"To me, no. It is a natural thing and I could not think of living any other way. Vilkas has been what he is long enough to not have these changes hurt anymore. He used to run free and wild with us, and he was happy. Then Kodlak filled his head with all that religious Sovngarde nonsense and then he suddenly changes his mind. Even Farkas is starting to suppress, though not as much as Vilkas and Kodlak are."

Vincent sighed. "What can I do to help?"

Aela hummed in thought as she looked off into the distance. "Well…" She began, "There is no help for the old man. There is nothing you could do for him anyway. However, you can help Vilkas."

"Oh yeah? I'm not going to tell him to let the wolf out if that's what you were going to suggest. He doesn't want to and I wont push him to."

"No, no. I'm sure there is currently no way to convince Vilkas otherwise at the moment. However, you can help him keep the wolf sated by helping him with his primal desire."

Why did it always lead back to dirty things? He cursed whichever Gods were making him suffer through such an embarrassing talk.

"Are you sure?" He lifted an eyebrow in doubt.

"Positive. It worked many times for me when I've been in public for long periods of time and couldn't release my beast."

He was almost scared to ask but… "What?"

"Sex, violence, brawls, tussling, dominance, biting, killing something…" She shrugged nonchalantly. "All things that are primal. They help suppress the beast and the hunger it craves. You can help him in such things as only his mate could."

Well, he was only slightly disturbed at the imagery he got and was glad she didn't get too descriptive. He tried not to focus on most of them and Vilkas doing some of…those things…to him. Gods, when did he become such a pervert?

"Thank you Aela. I'll remember that." Unfortunately.

"Glad I could help." She looked up at the sky and grinned. "We are making good time. We will be there within the hour."

Vincent looked up too and saw the sun had begun to set. Had they really been walking for so many hours? The conversation whittled away his awareness of time around him. He really did get too distracted when it came to Vilkas. Not a good habit to fall into.

Within the hour she led him to a small clearing. Up on the hill, a distance away, looked like a fortress. What in Oblivion were they doing here?

She smiled and pointed up to the fortress. "That is Gallows' rock. You've met the Silver Hand, yes?"

"Yeah. They're werewolf hunters, right?"

"Right." She nodded. "We are going to hunt every single one of the bastards down and teach them a lesson."

They were hunting humans…great. Granted it was humans who posed a threat to anyone with the beast blood and Vincent had become so attached to the whole circle he couldn't imagine Jorrvaskr without them. So, it was a good cause at least. From what he saw of these hunters, they cared nothing for humanly killing their prey and they were ready and willing to hurt Vincent even though he wasn't a werewolf.

"Where is Skjor?" He asked as if just noticing for the first time.

She looked around briefly before pointing to tracks in the dirt. "He's inside. Must have charged in ahead." She laughed, almost cruelly. "Those Silver hand might already all be dead! What a shame that'd be for us. Well, let's move. It's getting dark and we can't let Skjor take all the glory!"

She drew her bow and started up the hill. Vincent debated his options and drew his mace as well. He could still cast with his off hand if necessary. The fortress was eerily silent as they approached carefully. Vincent could see fine in the dimming light but Aela had the eyes of a predator. She scanned the battlement before huffing.

"All dead. Damnit, Skjor, leave some for us."

Vincent looked at the front door and felt a chill rush up his spine. Were those…werewolf heads?! How grotesque! Aela noticed his stare and nudged him.

"That's horrific." Vincent finally commented as they approached.

"That's why they need to be hunted. They are nothing but cowardly prey and we, the supreme hunters. Let us teach them what it means to attack one of the companions."

Vincent nodded and walked to the door. It was slightly ajar already, probably from where Skjor smashed through. He'd never really seen Skjor in action but he was sure it was a sight to behold. He glanced behind him at the setting sun and saw dark clouds on the horizon. He wind had suddenly picked up and howled loudly in the cold air. Aela seemed to notice too because she turned and looked as well.

"A storms picking up. We should hurry here and then head back to Jorrvaskr for victory drinks."

They both crept through the open door, careful not to make any noise as they passed the threshold. They crept through the torch lit hall, silent as ghosts, looking for any sign of the sliver hand. Vincent was about to ask Aela if they were all dead but she lifted up a linger to her lips before he could form the words. She pointed to a corner of the wall and gestured for him to stand there. He moved to do so and held his mace at the ready.

"I can't believe we lost five men already. Krev will take care of it, I'm sure. Wish I could be there…"

Voices… A male Nord was talking to someone… He heard a female grunt in acknowledgment. Unfortunately from his position on the wall, he was in a blind spot. He couldn't see them and they couldn't see him.

He watched Aela notch an arrow in place and aim. A wicked smile came to her pretty face and she winked at Vincent before she let the arrow fly. A sudden female cry of pain echoed in the chamber, followed by a hollow thud. He heard a male cry of outrage and the sound of a weapon being picked up. Aela took a step back and nodded to Vincent. He suddenly knew why she put him here.

The man walked right past Vincent's hiding spot, focused only on Aela and ending her. It was quick and easy… one single swift shot to the back of this thick skull and he was down. His weapon skidded across the floor and landed at Aela's feet. She glared down at the mocking silver battleaxe and kicked it away like garbage.

"You've got a good arm, Vincent." She complimented as she walked over the dead body of the silver hand and further into the chamber. Vincent politely stepped around the corpses instead of atop them. It had been a Nord woman, who felt the sting of Aela's arrow. It was lodged deeply in her throat with expert precision and she seemed to have died before she even hit the ground.

"Thanks." he paused. "Who's Krev…? Do you know?"

"Krev the skinner. He's one of their so called generals. He's killed a lot of our kind and wears their pelts as trophies. It will be a pleasure ending him…Well, if Skjor hasn't yet."

Vincent noticed a door to the right and tried it. Barred from the other side it seemed. With time, they could break through he was sure but there seemed to be another passage down.

"Silver Hand must have locked the place down once Skjor charged in. Humph. The cowards. Let's continue."

Vincent followed closely but not before giving the entrance chamber one last look around. He could hear the wind outside batter against the walls of the fortress and it filled him with unease. Something was wrong here. Very wrong…

The tunnels seemed to lead down for always. There were dead Silver hand strewn about and dead Skeever too. They eventually made it to a dingy cell area and took in their surroundings. There was a dead Silver Hand at the end of the hall, a tell-tale sign of Skjor being here at one point. Vincent took his time to look in each cell and groaned in displeasure at the dead werewolf bodies.

"Poor Bastards. None that we know by the smell of them." She sighed. "Some can't control the gift and become savage. There is no help for any of these."

Vincent nodded slightly dejected. It felt wrong to leave the bodies in such a condition but Aela was right. There was no helping them now. They passed the dead man at the end of the wall and descended down another small staircase. It seemed to be some kind of torture room. Skinned pelts and werewolf heads decorated the walls, while blood and bile covered the machines and stone floors.

"I understand hatred…" Vincent sighed, hating the decay smell that invaded his senesces. What he couldn't give for Vilkas' smell right now. "…but this…There is no honor in this. This is just mindless torture. They are no better then the crazed beasts they seek to destroy."

Aela gave him a quick look, judging if his comment was insulting and obviously decided it was not by the nod she gave him.

"They are nothing but children who like being cruel to animals. Like smashing a baby bird's skull in with a rock or kicking a small dog as it tried to eat. They are the true monsters." She spat, rather unlady-like on the ground. "Damnit, Skjor. We only got to kill one each. He got to have all the fun."

"It's not over yet." Vincent nodded at the staircase up across from him. "We still have a few rooms to go."

"Yeah." She nodded but didn't seem convinced. "It's too quiet though. Everyone must be dead already. Skjor will be standing there with that damn smug look of superiority."

Vincent couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit. "You seem close to him."

"We are close." She nodded. "Intimately so."

Vincent's lips instantly pulled into a straight line "Oh." He got what she meant instantly. "How long?"

"When I first joined the circle." She nodded as they climbed up the stairs.

"Ah."

_Scrape, scrape, scrape._

They both paused and looked up at the door at the top of the stairs. What the hell was that? It sounded like someone using a tanning rack in a black smithy. Vincent exchanged a look with her before they both crept closer to the door.

_Scrape, Scrape, Scrape._

Louder as they drew closer. It was definitely coming from behind this door. As they approached, Vincent felt an overwhelming sense of dread. A bad aura flowed off this room like a foul odor and almost made him want to recoil. He could smell blood, fresh blood…and that Scraping noise made him want to grind his teeth together.

Aela notched her bow and stood ready by the door. She looked at Vincent and nodded. He was to go first it seemed. The scraping noise was so loud now that it pounded in Vincent's ears like a drum. Every scrape sent a chill down his spine and it was only getting worse. So, he gathered his courage and gripped his mace tightly before he flung open the door.

The chamber inside was nearly pitch black and not even Aela seemed to be able to see too far in. However, she picked the first target she saw and let her arrow fly. A startled grunt called out in the big chamber and a large Orc man came charging out. He had Aela's arrow lodged in his shoulder and he snarled like a caged beast. Aela snarled back at him and notched another. This was her prey.

Vincent quickly scanned the room for more hostiles and could currently see only one more. It was the source of the scraping sound. A fully armored man had stopped mid scrape and had locked eyes with Vincent. He was adored in a mix of steel armor and fresh fur pelts. He must be Krev the skinner.

In the darkness, Vincent couldn't tell what race he was but he doubted it mattered. Krev gripped the dagger he'd been using on the tanning rack and got to his feet quickly. Vincent could see the flash of white teeth as he grinned at the mage with openly displayed malice. Only one would be walking away tonight.

Krev suddenly dashed at him, with a speed that managed to take Vincent by surprise. He caught the sleeve of Vincent's pastel coat with his dagger and ripped a huge gash up the side of his arm. Vincent felt blood being drawn but he could tell it wasn't deep. A glancing blow and he was lucky for it. That little dagger was sharp…

Vincent spun his mace around to try and clock The Skinner in the head but he ducked under it with surprising ease. Vincent didn't have time to brace as Krev's arm whirled in a backhand and cracked him right in the jaw. His mace flew from his hand as he hit the round and rolled off into the darkness of the chamber.

Vincent didn't have time to get to his feet because Krev was on him in a flash. The bigger man straddled his waist so Vincent couldn't kick him off and he held his hands tightly above his hands with only one. Cool metal caressed his check and a chilling laugh of delight echoed in his eardrums. He could smell that man's horrid breath on his face and it made him want to vomit.

"Well, Well…" Krev's voice was indistinguishable from any race and didn't give him away. Vincent was nearly face to face with him but could only really make out sadistic red eyes. He ran the flat of his very sharp, very cold blade along Vincent's check and slowly down his neck. "What have we here? Not a filthy wolf…you don't smell like one…but Ah! Yes…I see."

Pain suddenly wracked Vincent's form and he thrashed to dislodge the man from him. Krev remained still as a mountain however and Vincent could still hear Aela locked in battle somewhere distant. She would be no help here.

"You have a mark here." Krev punctuated his statement by lightly stabbing Vincent's mate mark again. The skin had just about healed from Vilkas' bite and now Krev had lightly stabbed at it twice. It was more then enough to send a stream of blood down his neck and onto his coat. "You lay with Wolves, so it's just as bad as being one." he sighed and pulled the knife away from the mark and back up Vincent's neck. "It's a shame I have to kill you, really. Well, not actually, no. I can do what I wish with you as I end your life slowly."

He saw Krev lick his lips in a hungry way and it made Vincent cringe. Gross.

"Sorry, but that's not going to happen." Vincent pulled his hands into fists and started concentrating. The surge of magic sparked in the air suddenly but Krev was so focused on his face and his blood lust, he didn't seem to notice.

"Oh yeah? How so, little boy? Your weapon is gone and you're defenseless."

"Not quite." Vincent winked before opening his palms to release twin jets of flame right into the Skinner's face.

The skinner howled in pain and rolled off of him, clutching at his own face in agonizing pain. He screamed something about _'Damn Mage!'_ but Vincent hadn't cared. He rolled to his feet and prepped another spell. A flash of cold formed in his pale and morphed into a fine point that could cut through armor and flesh like tissue paper. He growled at the sticky feeling of blood on his neck and arm before letting the ice bolt fly free from his fingertips. The Skinner was silenced all too suddenly by the large jagged ice crystal lodged in his windpipe. He fell over with a dull thud and breathed one last ragged, soggy sounding breath before stilling.

Vincent felt the urge to spit on the disgusting man but remained dignified. He brushed himself off and scanned around the room. Aela was gone. She probably baited the big Orc down the stairs. He knew she'd be able to handle herself and would probably get mad if he helped her, so he went in search of where his mace had flown off to.

Vincent climbed up the stairs in the middle of the room that led to a platform with what looked like an alter in the middle. He couldn't see anything very well but spotted the gleam of his mace in the darkness. He was lucky he supposed. What little light there was in this room, managed to just catch the ebony of his mace, making it gleam in the darkness. He moved blindly toward it but his foot slid out from under him. He tried to catch himself but there was nothing to grab hold of, so he toppled to his butt into a sticky substance. It smelt, foul…whatever it was. Slightly of blood but there was an added stench of hot sick in the air that made him suddenly gag.

He groaned at the soreness in his behind and weakly reached for the mace as he struggled to hold back the bile rising in his throat. He managed to grab it and look around the room from his seated position. There was a knocked out torch only a foot away so he unsteadily climbed to his feet and grabbed it from the ground. The flame had been licked out, probably when it made contact with the ground. He placed his mace back into his coat and immediately fixed the problem. He conjured flame to his hands for a moment and dipped the torch inside. When it was alight, he dismissed the magic, far too weary to keep it up for long. He sighed as fatigue settled in and turned it attention to the alter.

His eyes widened as the torch dropped from his hands and clattered to the ground. It stayed lit this time, which was unfortunate. Vincent would give anything to unsee what he was seeing now.

He was strung up horridly and his jaw had been torn from his face so his tongue lolled uselessly on his neck. They'd stripped him of everything and cut his manhood from him. Where it was now, was a mystery. His stomach had also cruelly been cut open, in a rather sloppy way. It was probably done so on purpose. His entrails and blood pooled to the floor and Vincent realized in horror, that that was what he had slipped in.

He heard footsteps behind him, Aela's startled gasp and the sound of her bow clanking against the floor. Vincent didn't turn, didn't acknowledge she was there. His mouth twitched and opened. He screamed at his discovery that night. He screamed until his voice had gone ragged and not even the howling of the wind that night could drown out the sound.


	11. Too cold outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas glanced at Vincent but the Mage didn't seem to notice. His eyes were distant and haunted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Angst ahead

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Vilkas couldn't believe it was actually raining in Whiterun. It was usually snow but the Gods had the good sense to help the plant life with some rain. It was strange how the clouds had suddenly opened up and let a cascade of violent rain crash upon their heads. Vilkas' hair was still slightly damp. He'd just being walking with his brother when suddenly the torrential downpour suddenly let loose.

Vilkas sat silently near a window and looked out to the gloomy, soaked streets. He really hoped Vincent wasn't caught in this…

A sudden nudge to his shoulder, pulled his gaze from the window. He looked up at Farkas, who held out a mug of mead for him. Vilkas took the cup gratefully and watched Farkas sit opposite him.

"Why are we here again?" Vilkas asked, taking a sip of his mead and found it passable. "Jorrvaskr has better mead then this." He glanced about and took in the atmosphere of the Bannered Mare.

That horribly garish woman, Uthgerd the so-called-Unbroken, was seated in the corner of the room. She had been watching the brothers since they walked in with a steely glare and a grimace on her unattractive face. She was not companion material, especially since she didn't seem sorry for killing another prospect. It took Farkas only a moment to throw that woman from the hall after she argued her worth. Vilkas ignored her glares, easily enough.

That insufferable bard was there chatting up the poor widow, Carlotta. She looked like she was doing her best to ignore him and sipped her mead. Hulda was at the bar, smiling and watching over her patrons. The redguard girl that Vilkas rarely ever saw, was currently not present. Sinmir was in the corner, muttering something about the security of Whiterun and drinking himself blind. That seemed to be all the regulars.

"You needed to get out of there." Farkas sighed heavily, breaking Vilkas out of his observations and took a swig of his own mug. "You've been stalking about aimlessly since Vincent left with Aela yesterday. You need to get your mind off it and the Bannered Mare is a good place to do it."

"Easier said then done, brother." Vilkas set his mug aside, uninterested in it at the moment and resumed window watching. "this place does not provide a good distraction."

"Worried about him?"

"Always."

"It's unlike you to care about someone so much."

"Aye."

"What's wrong with you?"

Normally, Vilkas would have smiled for his brother and waved it off but there was deep concern in Farkas' voice. They always had each other and they promised as much when they were children. They'd always be together and would only ever need each other. That's how twins were supposed to be, right? But now, all of Vilkas' thoughts had shifted to another and it was only obvious that Farkas would pick up on the change.

"I…don't know." he answered truthfully, before turning his gaze to his brother.

Farkas was frowning slightly. It wasn't an upset frown, more of a concerned one. His blue eyes that were an exact match to Vilkas' were trailing over Vilkas' face as to take in his every feature to determine truth. His big hand was lightly resting on his mead, a sign he wasn't stressed or upset as others may think he was.

"Can I ask you something, brother?"

"You know you can." Vilkas sighed.

"Do you love him?"

Vilkas froze. Farkas, Jergen and Kodlak had been the only men he'd shown love for, and those were not in the ways he was sure Farkas was implying. He went through all the possibilities in head, running through every detail and moment he'd ever had with the mage. His dreams, the marking, the way Vincent smiled in the morning, there arguments about magic, the way he moved, the way he laughed and most importantly, how he made Vilkas feel. Did he love him?

"I…" Vilkas stopped and starred at the table. He'd marked Vincent without thinking. It had felt natural to do so and he'd been caught in the moment. He worried uncharacteristically, when Vincent had gotten sick. He felt protective….possessive…he wanted Vincent to look at no one else but him. Was that love or just Obsession…?

Farkas sighed, interrupting him. "You do."

"What?" Vilkas' eyes flickered back up to his brother. To his inner relief the frown of concern was gone and replaced with his normal understanding smile.

"You love him." Farkas concluded, obviously thinking himself rather smart by the suddenly smug look he got while lifting his mead to his mouth.

"Oh yeah?" Vilkas spoke trying not to get defensive. "How would you know?"

"I know you best."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Vilkas took his own mug and just swirled it on the table idly. "How are you so sure…?"

"He makes you act different. At first I thought it might just be some kind of rivalry. You were defensive and harsh about his magic, which was not strange for you. Then it seemed to matter less and less. Then, that night happened…and Aela told me you marked him…" Farkas' voice lowered so the other occupants of the Bannered Mare would not hear them. "Why would you mark him if you didn't love him?"

"It was instinct." Vilkas huffed. "My wolf was acting on it's own behalf. I wasn't thinking."

"Do you regret it?"

That was good question. "Honestly?"

"Yes."

"I don't….and I don't know why. I've trapped him with me now. If he runs…I'd hunt him down. I don't know if that's just the wolf altering my way of thinking, but I want him to be with me. I won't let him go now and I don't regret trapping him." He swirled his mead in the tankard again and watched the yellowish substance, instead of his brothers' eyes. "Does that make me a horrible man?"

"No. Not to me anyway…" He smiled kindly. "I think this may be love, brother. You're afraid to loose him and you spend every second worrying about him when he's gone. I'd never seen you behave this way before."

"So… I love him?"

Farkas grinned broadly. "Yep."

Just fucking wonderful….

He huffed at his brother's grin. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"How do you feel about all this?"

Farkas put a hand to his chin and 'hmmmed'. He was obviously trying to act smarter then he actually was now. Vilkas really hoped this wouldn't go to his head. "Do you mean about Vincent or about the situation?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Either."

"I like Vincent." He grinned again in a way that a child would when talking about their best friend. "I liked him since I met him."

"Really? I know you're not the biggest fan of magic either…"

"No, I'm not." Farkas nodded. "But I know when it's useful and Vincent has only used it to further the glory of the companions. He's a friend to me and that means something." Vilkas suddenly felt his stomach burn slightly and his jaw tightened slightly. How was his brother such good friends with Vincent? He grumbled under his breath at the not-so-alien feeling and scolded himself for ever feeling it. Farkas instantly took notice, however. "Vilkas?"

Vilkas locked eyes with his brother and grumped out a "what?"

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

Farkas laughed. "You're lying to me."

Stupid twin telepathy…

"I said, no."

"Vilkas. You have nothing to be jealous about. Vincent and I talk but I have no interest in him. Rest assured dear brother, your love is safe from me." He winked and took a large gulp of his mead. Vilkas suddenly wanted to slap him for his stupidity but the burning feeling in his gut ebbed away at Farkas' words. He trusted his brother more then anyone and knew he'd never lie about something like this. He just wished he would stop going on about this _'love'_ business.

"What about the situation, then?"

"well, I think you and Vincent need to talk. It's like the two of you are dancing around each other just waiting for the other to pounce." He laughed a bit loudly. "It's painful to watch sometimes."

"Talk about what?" Vilkas snapped, a bit annoyed that his brother was laughing.

"Your feelings. Gee, Vilkas and they call me stupid."

"You are stupid." Vilkas huffed. "Unless I'm speaking with you, you know I don't talk about those things."

"I know, but you have to talk to him about it. Nothing will get better unless you do."

"True…but-"

"Buts are for sitting, brother." Farkas remarked and emptied his tankard. "I may have ice for brains but I can be smart sometimes. Trust me. Vincent wants to talk to you too."

"How do you know all this?" Vilkas' eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"When I went on that mission with him, we had time to talk…" Farkas' smile faltered for a moment and most people wouldn't be able to catch it but his twin could.

"Farkas…?"

Farkas' grin had come back as if it hadn't left. "Yeah?"

"What did you and Vincent talk about?"

"I told you once, I think. We talked about you and how Vincent liked you. Which is how I know!" He finished abruptly.

"You're not telling me something." Farkas chuckled and shook his head. Vilkas' eyes narrowed further as he inspected his brother. He really was a horrible liar. "Farkas…out with it."

Farkas' smile faltered again and Vilkas was sure that just for a moment he saw a guilty look cross Farkas' face. "Vincent he…he's…"

"He's what?"

"He's…sick."

"Aye, I know. Did he tell you what he was sick with?"

Farkas' lips pulled into a straight line and his eyes flickered away. Vilkas suddenly felt his anger start to build. Farkas knew! He knew this whole time and he hadn't told him?!

"Vilkas…look…"

"What is he sick with Farkas?" There was a warning tone to his voice. "Do not lie to me."

"It's not for me to tell, brother."

Vilkas huffed. "Why's that?"

"Vincent asked me not to tell you." his big shoulder's drooped.

"What? Why?"

"He didn't want you to hate him. Only Kodlak and I know."

"Kodlak knows?!"

Farkas nodded. "I'm sorry brother."

Vilkas reached across the table and gripped his brother's wrist tightly. "Tell me."

"I can't."

"Farkas…" he practically growled. "Tell. ME."

"I can't!" Farkas pulled his wrist away. "I promised Vincent I wouldn't tell you. If you want the answer, then go to Vincent for it. He must trust you enough to tell you now."

Vilkas bolted up, abandoning his mead and stormed out into the rain. He heard Farkas scramble to follow him but he paid it no head and stomped toward Jorrvaskr.

"Vilkas! Stop!"

Vilkas ignored his brother's call and got to the stone steps before he was grabbed. He instantly ripped his arm away from his brother's grip.

"Vilkas!"

Vilkas turned and glared at him. "What?!" he shouted, louder then intended.

Farkas looked lost for a moment, almost like when they were kids again. "Forgive me."

Vilkas stared at him with a scowl for a long while, the rain soaking them both to the bone. His brother had those big dumb puppy eyes as he stared up at Vilkas. He had always used those eyes when they were kids to get out of trouble with Jergen. Vilkas hadn't been so lucky. His eyes had always been cold, calculated and brimming with intelligence. He didn't do the big dumb puppy look that his brother could.

Vilkas sighed and felt the rage rush out of him in a big wave. He could never stay mad at Farkas…especially when he hadn't done anything wrong. Yet there was a small lingering resentment deep down that hated being deceived, especially by his own twin. A promise was a promise though, and Vilkas just couldn't stay mad, even if he had wanted to.

"It's not your fault." Vilkas spoke and watched Farkas carefully. "You were just keeping a promise. I AM going to have words with Vincent and you WILL stay out of it. Understand?"

Farkas nodded. "Don't be too mean to him. He was really worried about what you think of him."

"Is that right?" Vilkas looked about the landscape, bitterly.

" I think he loves you too."

Vilkas didn't want to admit it but his heart hammered faster at his brother's words. He almost felt sick but it wasn't in the way that illness made him feel. His jaw clenched and unclenched at the feeling. "In order for him to love me too, I'd have to love him first."

Farkas finally smiled again. "Right…You'll deny this forever, won't you?"

"Aye." He just turned away and stepped back inside the shelter that Jorrvaskr provided.

 

He noticed that something was instantly wrong. It was too quiet in the common room for this time of day. When Vilkas and Farkas had left that afternoon, the hall had been filled with drinking and merriment. Now, not even two hours later, it was nearly dead with only one occupant. Ria was the only one in the hall and her eyes were slightly puffy and red. She was trembling in place like a leaf caught in a stiff breeze. Farkas instantly rushed to her side and exchanged soft words with her that Vilkas couldn't hear. She looked on the verge of tears, as she whispered in his brother's ear and Vilkas felt his rough mask soften slightly in concern. Farkas suddenly looked up at Vilkas with wide eyes.

"Vincent is downstairs."

Vilkas did not need to be told twice. He booked it down the stairs, almost tripping in his haste but catching himself on the door. He could hear Ria bursting in hysterical sobs behind him and it made his heart catch in his throat. He swung the door open and left it as such as he bolted into the living areas. It was quiet here. Too quiet and it made Vilkas uneasy. He smelt the air and found it thick with blood. He felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment as panic began to set in. There was the slightest hint of that fiery smell that accompanied Vincent, coming from the circle's living quarters. Vilkas took a guess and ran to his room. Praying to whatever Gods that were watching or listening that Vincent would be there.

Vincent was there and had his back to Vilkas. His coat was off and he was sitting in the middle of the floor. Vilkas caught the sight of pastel colors in Vincent's lap and Vincent appeared to be sewing. Vilkas could see a bandage over where his mate mark was and bandages decorating his right wrist when he moved the needle back to resume a stitch. He was hurt…! Vilkas took a step inside and was suddenly stricken with the smell of death. Vilkas recoiled slightly from the stench.

"Vincent…?"

Vincent's head instantly spun in his direction. His eyes, much like Ria's, were puffy and red. When their gaze met, tears welled up in the mage's eyes and he dropped his project. Vilkas saw that Vincent's normally pastel colored coat was now matted with browns, waterlogged damage and deep reds. He watched the mage get to his feet and dash into Vilkas arms, hugging his middle tightly. Vincent still smelt of fire, but he was soaked clean through, much as Vilkas was. They must have hard marched back to Jorrvaskr in the rain. The smell of death was fainter and seemed to linger more on Vincent's coat, then on the mage himself.

He heard Vincent mutter something against his chest before a choking sob cut him off. So Vilkas put a hand in his hair and stroked with as much comfort as he could offer. "What did you say?"

"S-Skjor…" Vincent's voice was raspy as if he was loosing his voice.

"What happened?" Vilkas tried lifting Vincent's chin so he could gaze into his eyes. He did easily enough, but Vincent's eyes were shut as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

"He's dead!" Vincent managed to choke out between a sob, his voice harsh like stones rubbing together. "They killed him! They cut him open like a goddamn fish and o-oh gods!" He buried his face in Vilkas' neck and sobbed like a child. He clung to Vilkas as if he were a life line as his smaller body wracked with despair.

Vilkas heard his words and felt…cold. He only felt hollow as the harsh realization fell over his subconscious. He sunk to his knees and brought Vincent with him to the floor. The Mage did not resist the pull, nor seemed to realize that they had moved at all. There, he held the mage just as tight and let him cry. The questions of Vincent's illness were instantly forgotten, gone with the tides, and all that mattered to Vilkas right now was holding him.

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It was still raining a day later. It was not as harsh as it had been the day before but it was still coming down with no sign of stopping. The remaining circle and Kodlak had gathered up to the Skyforge for Skjor's funeral. The others had already stopped by and paid their respects and now only they remained. Vilkas had dressed in his best wolf armor and polished his sword until it shown like the sun. Vincent was beside him dressed in his now cleaned and stitched up coat. his normally bright eyes were now downcast and hollow as he stared into Skjor's pyre.

Vilkas hadn't looked at Skjor before today. Although, Vincent had updated Vilkas in the _'condition'_ they had found Skjor in. It seems Aela and Vincent had found his jaw and wolf armor and had dawned him with them before letting everyone see the body. The jaw was detached so Aela had covered up the sight with a crimson red cloth, adorned with the seal of the companions.

Vilkas glanced at Vincent but the Mage didn't seem to notice. His eyes were distant and haunted. Vilkas had held the sobbing man through out the night and listened to his sorrows. He blamed himself it seemed, even though Aela had told him that the fault was not his own. When they had awoke the next day, Vincent's voice was gone completely, although Vilkas wasn't surprised. He'd apparently screamed himself hoarse when he'd found Skjor. Vilkas couldn't blame him for that. To find a man he knew as a friend in such a grotesque and horribly demeaning way, was enough to make anyone lose it.

Vilkas didn't know why he did it, but his hand tensed at his side before reaching out and taking Vincent's gloved hand. His fingers were limp for a moment before they twitched to life and gave Vilkas' hand a squeeze in recognition. Vincent did not look at Vilkas however, and stayed fixed upon the dead body of Skjor.

Vilkas tore his eyes from the mage to glance at the other members of their collective. Farkas stood respectfully straight but his face was that of a kicked puppy. Aela was standing strong and tall. Her face was hard as if she had just fought in a war and her fists were clenched at her sides. Kodlak was carrying a torch and donned in his normal wolf armor. His tired expression showed his age and his brow was furrowed with concerned lines. Eventually Kodlak cleared his throat and stepped between the circle and the body of Skjor.

"Today, we send off a great man. A man whom we all cherished and respected. The Gods weep for our Shield brother this day as do we all. Today, we say goodbye to our beloved brother and friend. " Kodlak glanced at the gathered circle and stopped on Aela. "Aela, would you like to do the honors?"

"Yes, I would." She stepped up and took the torch from him. Kodlak nodded and took the place near Farkas. He laid a heavy hand on Farkas shoulder and tried to smile in a fatherly way. Vilkas saw Farkas' lips twitch upward just for a moment to let Kodlak know that he was okay. Then all eyes were on Aela.

It took her a moment to move toward the pyre but her jaw tightened and her courage raised. She stepped toward his body until she was at the base of the pyre and stared down into the face of the man she knew so well. She leaned down and in a surprising display of affection, leaned down and kissed his forehead. Vilkas felt Vincent's hand tighten at the display, and Vilkas squeezed back.

"Goodbye, my love." she whispered the words against his cold dead flesh but everyone had heard. Not one commented or showed emotion at the statement. They all just marveled in her strength as she shed not a single tear, and lit his pyre aflame. She blew the torch out and walked down the steps of the Skyforge.

"Aela?" Kodlak called after her. There was an edge of concern on his voice.

She didn't even turn around to answer him. "I'm going to run and hunt in his honor. I will be back tonight." Then she resumed walking, looking determinedly ahead of her and did not glance back once.

Kodlak and Farkas were the next to leave. They both decided they needed a strong drink and retired to the hall for a cup. When they were gone, Vilkas squeezed Vincent's hand again and the Mage finally looked up at him.

He looked frail standing there. His face was weary, as if he'd just climbed a mountain. However there was an odd look in Vincent's eyes. One that overshadowed the sorrow and the guilt, deep within those copper orbs. It was anger. Pure and unadulterated anger. He'd never seen that look on the mage before. He'd only caught a glimpse of it when Vincent had brought up that man _'Cadrian._ ' Now, he saw that seething hatred in full force and Vilkas was honestly taken aback.

"Vincent…?"

Vincent's lips twitched at the sound of his name and he seemed to expel breath that he had been holding. "Yes?" His voice was still rough and it sounded painful. He didn't even sound like the same man.

Vilkas couldn't think of anything to say now. He wanted to ask if the Mage was okay but they both knew the answer to that already. So he just pulled on his hand and tried leading him away from the pyre. To his relief, Vincent followed without a fight but his eyes lingered on the flame, hatred still burning deep within them. On the wind, Vilkas heard that scratchy whisper accompanied by the tightening of Vincent's fingers interlocked with his own.

_"they will pay for this. I swear it…"_

It was so soft that Vilkas wasn't sure he'd actually heard it but he paid the comment no heed for now. Vincent had every right to hate the silver hand for this. He would not slight the mage on thoughts of vengeance. Vilkas sighed and looked up, getting a face full of rain water for his efforts. He didn't care for the moment and let the cold rain run against his warm face. He noted ironically, that this is the longest he'd ever held someone's hand and all it took was a beloved friend's death in order to accomplish it.

"It wasn't your fault." Vilkas finally spoke and felt Vincent jump at his voice.

"What?"

Vilas grimaced at the noise his mate made. "don't talk and just listen."

He turned to Vincent, who's face had slowly become a blank slate. He saw that the anger had faded from Vincent's eyes and now there was just cold emptiness. Vilkas wasn't sure if he preferred the hatred over this. What he wouldn't give to see his eyes light up again…but he knew Vincent needed time.

Vincent nodded, probably relived to relax his throat.

"After what you told me, I talked to Aela. The blame was not yours. Skjor shouldn't have charged in there the way he had and the only fault lies on foolish choices. So don't you dare blame yourself."

Vincent's mouth pulled into a straight line as his gaze flicked downward to the dirt. He just nodded mutely.

Vilkas took a step forward, his hand still locked with his mage and felt Vincent stiffen up at the close contact. His posture soon relaxed and he breathed a heavy sigh. Only when Vincent relaxed, did Vilkas lift his free hand and cup Vincent's chin. He lifted so they could make eye contact. Copper met ice and all the understanding in all of Nirn was between them. Their lips touched, cold from the rain but warmed quickly and either knew how long they stayed that way.


	12. How long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both knew it now…but neither were ready to confess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff, humor and overprotective!Vilkas on the way.

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\--

A week passed before some light returned to Vincent's eyes and even then he had trouble smiling. It was only until another fortnight had passed before he appeared to be his old self again. Vilkas was inwardly relived by this development, yet had voiced no concern during the mage's reclusive periods. The past three weeks had been hell for both of them. Since that long kiss in the rain on the day of Skjor's funeral, they had barely even touched, let alone kissed.

They still shared a bed, but Vincent had curled defensively into a fetal position and refused to budge. Everything in Vilkas screamed at him to try and comfort the mage but he left it alone. He comforted the mage in his own way. Not by holding him, kissing him and telling him everything was going to be okay. No. It was in their eye contact as they glanced at one another, in the soft way their hands would touch, even if it was briefly and the ability to feel without words.

Skjor's old room was offered to Vincent, since he was a member of the circle and all but the mage had politely declined. He stated that he simply, _'wanted to stay with Vilkas'_ and Vilkas had not argued. He'd grown accustomed to the mage sleeping beside him and had felt empty that day he'd been absent.

Vilkas' wolf had been grating his nerves as of late, as well. It was constantly howling, calling for blood, calling to be let free and it took almost all of Vilkas' willpower to push the beast back. The wolf could feel its mate's distress and that only made the urges more powerful.

Aela had taken Vincent out a few more times, claiming that they were just hunting. Vilkas allowed this without much complaint, even though his gut burned slightly with jealousy to see them together. He trusted both Aela and Vincent to not do anything like that together but it didn't stop him from being jealous. It sometimes annoyed him how close they were becoming as they whispered in corners and went out on secret hunts together.

The paranoia from his wolf easily leaked into his subconscious and made him angry. He also remembered his conversation with Farkas and that only fueled his anger. Vincent kept so many secrets from Vilkas and it didn't seem fair. He was so close to everyone and told them everything and yet he couldn't tell Vilkas? They shared a bed, they shared space and if there was to be any feeling between them, the secrets had to stop and had to stop soon.

Because of Vincent's apparent gloom about Skjor's death, Vilkas had let the questions slide. The redhead looked like he'd burst into tears or a hysterical rant at any moment so Vilkas kept his questions to himself.

He'd watch the man he _'supposedly'_ (according to Farkas) loved, down that nasty smelling potion every three days and wonder to himself what the hell it was for. He respected the mage's privacy too much to pry through his things to get an answer but his patience was slowly running out. He was at wits end with all this waiting, sorrow and tension.

Then one day, Vilkas sat at the table with a heavy gloom still on the air, tired to all hells from the amount of willpower he was spending to keep his wolf leached, when suddenly Vincent had walked past and gained his immediate attention. They met eyes and peace began when Vincent's lips curved up into a soft smile. The gloom faded and it was if a ray of light had entered the room. Things only got better from there on out.

The life seemed to return to Jorrvaskr with time and Aela stopped taking Vincent out so much. They still hung around one another but they did not go on their little _'adventures'_ so much. They seemed to have gained a strong comradely in these past three weeks, and as long as it stayed purely as friendship, Vilkas was okay with it.

Vilkas watched them now from his seat at the table. He was nursing a mug of mead and Vincent and Aela were sitting next to him, laughing about some joke Eorlund had made earlier. Vincent's laugh was refreshing to hear and made the corner of his lips twitch up. Vincent had even begun curling out of his fetal position in favor of holding on to Vilkas at night. It was…cute and it took a lot of willpower not to pounce on him to have his filthy way with the man.

Every caress, be it accidental or intentional, was beginning to have a profound affect on Vilkas' body. Poor Vincent didn't seem to have a clue which added to his frustration and if he did, then Vincent was good at hiding it. If that was the case, then Vilkas no longer thought he was a _'poor little thing'_. Devious bastard was more like it.

"Vilkas? Are you listening?"

Vilkas snapped out of his thoughts to find Aela and Vincent starring at him. He blinked at them and raised an eyebrow. "Hum?"

"Told you he wasn't listening." Vincent smirked and held out his hand.

Aela huffed and produced three gold before handing them over with a scowl. "Damnit, Vilkas. I figured you'd be paying close attention."

Vilkas blinked confused. "Were you betting?"

Vincent nodded and pocketed the money. He stuck his tongue out at Aela playfully before scooting closer to Vilkas with a wiry grin. "I can always tell when you're not paying attention."

Vilkas huffed and half-heartedly glared at the mage. "How's that?"

Vincent's grin turned coy and Vilkas was inwardly relived to see it. It had been so long since he smiled at Vilkas like that…although that usually meant the mage was about to do something mischievous, piss him off or turn him on. What a complicated relationship they led.

"I like watching you. It's like a pastime." Vincent thought for a moment. "I'm grump watching."

"You're what?"

Vincent laughed and put his chin on Vilkas' shoulder. "Grump watching."

Vilkas' eyebrows furrowed and he tried not to focus too much on Vincent's addicting scent. "I'm not grumpy."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not."

"You are." Aela interjected.

"They're right." Farkas chimed in as he sat on the other side of Vilkas.

"To oblivion with all of you." Vilkas huffed and drank some of his mead.

They all shared a laugh at Vilkas' expense as Kodlak was walking up. Vilkas' eyes flicked up and saw the old man smiling fondly at the scene, obviously relived that they were all getting along. Somewhere in the pit of his gut, Vilkas felt guilty. It was sad that it took the death of someone close to them to bring this them together this way.

"Good to see everyone getting along." Kodlak smiled, not unlike a proud father. "Now, I have work for all of you-" He chuckled as Farkas _'booed'._ "Aela, a man needs his heirloom found and returned. I'm assigning Vincent to go with you and Vilkas, a strange man down by Loreius farm is causing problems. Remove him. I'm assuming you'll want to take Farkas?"

"Actually…" Aela spoke before Vilkas had the chance to. "I think Vincent should go with Vilkas and I should take Farkas."

Vilkas stared at her and found her grin unsettling. What the hell was going on….?

Kodlak blinked. "Well…sure. Are you okay with this Vilkas?"

Vilkas nodded without really thinking. He was more suspicious about what Aela was planning…but the idea of being near Vincent was appealing. Kodlak agreed then and set them out on their tasks. Vilkas bolted up, startling Vincent and grabbed Aela's arm before she could retreat. "What's that all about?"

"What's what all about?" Her grin did not fade.

"You're planning something…aren't you?"

"No." She shrugged. "I just think Vincent would be better for your job. That's all. Let's go Farkas."

"Yeah." Farkas pat Vilkas on the shoulder quickly and Vilkas reluctantly let go of Aela so they could leave.

"Guess it's you and me, Vilkas." The redhead stated a bit too sweetly to be coincidental. Him and Aela must have planned this somehow…or he was just being paranoid.

Vilkas grunted in confirmation and grabbed his sword. He slung it over his shoulder and into its holster and then finished his mead in a single gulp. Then he headed outside with the mage in tow.

"I don't know how you can drink Mead so fast and be unaffected. I'd be slurring if I drank that fast." Vincent spoke, keeping pace with him.

"You're not a Nord." Vilkas let a small ghost of a smile come to his lips. As much as he hated to admit it, he did feel better when Vincent was around.

"That has nothing to do with it." The mage huffed. "Others can drink Nord mead just as well."

"Not as well as a Nord. Hence the name, 'Nord mead.'"

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Still doesn't mean anything."

"Then you're just a lightweight."

Vincent playfully shoved Vilkas' arm. "Shut up."

His pulse suddenly raced as Vilkas almost shoved back. But his hand suddenly stopped mid-raise. The smallest nudge had peaked his aggressiveness and he feared how hard he may actually hit. His wolf had stirred and awoken much to Vilkas' dismay and he let his arm fall back limply at his side. If he shoved, even playfully, he might hurt him…and if he didn't hurt him and this little play fight continued…Vilkas couldn't be held accountable for tackling the mage to the dirt.

His arm was nudged again and a growl leaked out from the contact. His nerves were suddenly on fire and he wanted Vincent. RIGHT. NOW. His scent was suddenly so strong, his touches like electricity and his closeness was intoxicating. His wolf growled in arousal and it made Vilkas grit his teeth.

"Vilkas?" That honeyed voice sent a small shutter down his spine and Vincent's gloved hand was resting on his arm now. Vincent was still talking but he could barely hear Vincent speak over the howls of his wolf.

_Claim him, take him… right here and now._

He suddenly ripped his arm away from the mages' grip and put a hand to his head. He wanted to scream at how loud the howls inside his head were. He squeezed his eyes shut and gnashed his teeth together. _Please stop! Stop howling!_ All he could hear was his heart thudding and those horrible agonizing howls!

"Vilkas?"

It suddenly stopped in an instant. He blinked, surprised that the wolf had suddenly halted it's assault. Internal attacks that bad usually lasted hours…He pulled his hands away from his head and slowly looked over to Vincent. Vincent was a step of two behind him now, his hand still out and motionless from when Vilkas tore his arm away. Vilkas felt his stomach burn in guilt. He'd just gotten Vincent to smile again and now he was going to ruin it because he couldn't control his damn self.

"I'm fine…" his voice was huskier then he could have liked and he wasn't sure if it was his imagination but he thought he saw the mage shiver at the sound. "Lets just get this done…"

"Okay."

They walked in silence for a while. They exited the gates of Whiterun and headed down the large hill just like they had the day of Vincent's coronation. Vilkas had looked up at the cloud covered sky and sighed. The rain was gone but they were not past the storm yet. Why did this have to be so hard and awkward…?

He finally trusted himself to speak and looked over his shoulder at Vincent. "So you and Aela are close now, hum?"

Vincent looked up, surprised that he was being spoken to. "Yes, I suppose."

"She's come a long way from not wanting you in the circle…"

"We've bonded on the mission that Skjor…" He stopped and shook his head. "We're okay now…her and I. I'm still not one hundred percent sure that she wants me in the circle still but she's accepted that there is no further say in the matter. I've since proved myself and she's seen first hand."

"Where have the two of you been going?" He couldn't help himself and had to ask.

"Don't be so suspicious, Vilkas."

"I'm not. You just come home reeking of blood…"

"It's not my blood."

"I know."

"Then don't worry."

Vilkas suddenly stopped and Vincent almost plowed into his back. His fists clenched at his sides and he had just about had enough of this secret bullshit! He whirled around with a furious look and saw Vincent's eyes widen slightly.

"None of my business then?" He practically hissed. "Do I need to remind you that you ARE my business?"

"Vilkas…listen it-"

"No. You tell me where you've been going with her. I'm not asking you to tell me why you whimper in your sleep or what is in that god's awful medicine you drink." He saw Vincent's face contort slightly with a look of guilt but he paid it no heed and continued. "These are all questions I want the answers to, but for now I just want to know where you've been going with her and why you can't tell me."

"I…I just…" Vincent looked away and sighed heavily. He gently lifted his hand and placed it on Vilkas' arm. Vilkas flinched slightly at the warm, inviting contact but pushed it aside for now. Thankfully his wolf was still quiet.

"You just what?"

"I don't want you to be mad." He finished. His hand soothingly (or tried to be) rubbed Vilkas' arm. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."

"That depends."

The redhead's look turned desperate. "Please Vilkas. Promise you wont tell and I'll tell you where we've been going."

Vilkas huffed and grabbed Vincent's hand to still it on his arm. He couldn't concentrate with that persistent rubbing… "Fine."

"Promise you wont be mad…"

"No promises on that. Now out with it."

"Aela and I…we've been….hunting down the silver hand."

Vilkas wasn't sure if he even heard right. "You…what?"

"We've been hunting down the Silver hand. We stole their plan book and everything…We're going to route them out and destroy them."

Vilkas wasn't mad. Surprisingly so.….just confused. "This is…unlike you. Did Aela talk you into this?"

"No. She suggested it and I agreed to it. It was right after we found Skjor…"

"The Silver hand is sure to retaliate…" He still had a grip on Vincent's hand and decided to resume walking, dragging the mage along behind him. Vincent easily started to keep pace with him.

"You weren't there." He protested. "If the silver hand had done something so horrible to your brother...or to Kodlak, you'd want revenge right?"

"Nothing could save them from me." He concluded.

"It's the same with me. They are monsters, Vilkas. They don't care who they hurt as long as they kill people like us."

"Like us? You mean the circle?"

"I'm in the circle now." Vincent huffed. "I don't think they'd care and just assume."

"Right."

"Vilkas…" Vincent tugged slightly on the hand that held his own. "Are you mad?"

"No." Vilkas concluded. "But I don't like you keeping something like this from me. You could have told me…"

"Aela was sure you'd run to Kodlak."

"I wont since you made me promise, but I do think he needs to know…if he doesn't already."

Vincent met his eyes and blinked. "Pardon?"

"He's a smart old man. He knows more then you give him credit for."

A small smile came to Vincent's lips and he nodded in confirmation. "Okay… I'll go talk to him tomorrow."

"Lets…" Vilkas grumbled under his breath, attempting to process all the information gathered. "…Get this job done…so we can head back. Alright?"

"Yes…"

Then their hands separated.

 

They walked in silence the rest of the way there though the mood had lifted. Vilkas would occasionally glance over his shoulder at the mage. Their eyes would meet and Vincent would smile so pretty for him, before glancing down at the ground shyly. Vilkas found himself smiling too…almost at how stupid this seemed. He thought of how ridiculous this was in his head but how he couldn't help but act like a teenager. Kids chased each other, flirted and behaved shyly around the one they liked. Vincent and him were grown men but they certainly weren't acting like it.

Suddenly the mage looked up and pointed ahead. "Vilkas…don't look now, but I think that's the disturbance…."

Of course Vilkas looked and raised an eyebrow. There was a huge cart, toting some kind of big wooden crate. It was obviously missing a wheel and had careened to the side of the path. Standing in the middle of the road, jabbering loudly to himself was a jester….which was incredibly odd seeing as no man of merriment had been in Skyrim for years.

Unfortunately for the pair, the Jester spotted them and waved incessantly. "Hey! You there! Hello! Can you gentlemen please help poor Cicero?"

Vincent glanced at Vilkas and Vilkas glanced back. He got a bad vibe from this man but he did seem like he was in some need to assistance. Was he the one who called for companion help? Odd…and unlikely. He could see Loreius farm, just ahead though so maybe this was the man they were meant to remove? Vilkas shrugged at Vincent and let the mage do the talking. He might crush this weirdo's skull in frustration today.

"I suppose we can…" the redhead vestured closer but not close enough to touch. "What's the problem…?"

"Poor Cicero is stuck! Stuck! I was trying to get my poor mother to another grave and this DAMNED wagon wheel! Oh poor mother!"

"Uh…." Vincent looked around for a moment. The look on his face told Vilkas everything. This is ridiculous and strange as hell. "I don't have any tools to help or anything…"

"Vantus Loreius does!" the jester proclaimed and pointed up at the farm with a rapidly shaking hand. "He will not help poor Cicero!"

"Why not?"

"I do not know…" His voice was suddenly low and although still plagued with a vague madness it had a ring of eerie intelligence to it. Then it was gone and he bounced about. "Will you help Cicero, stranger?! Will you talk to Loreius for me?"

"I could do that…" Vincent backed away toward Vilkas slightly. Vilkas was ready to wrap his arms around the mage and glare at the strange jester but he held the impulse at bay.

"Oh, thank you! THANK YOU!" he did a little jig. " There will be gold in it for you if he helps!"

Vincent retreated back to Vilkas' side and they both made their way up the hill to the farm.

"Should we help him?" Vilkas hissed when they were out of ear shot.

"What choice do we have? He's obviously a bit whacked out of his noodle and he needs help. It's not right to turn him down just because he's a bit loopy."

"Leave it to you to sympathize with madmen."

"Vilkas…"

They stopped at the front door and Vilkas knocked. "Really now…" He continued the conversation while they waited. "There's something off about him…something dangerous. I can smell it on him."

"It's not our place to judge him."

"You're right, but what if he's a murderer or something and that crate is filled with victims?"

"That seems a bit farfetched, Vilkas."

"Maybe so." Vilkas shrugged. "I still don't like it."

The door opened and a Imperial man stepped out. He glared at the two of them suspiciously so Vincent cleared his throat.

"Hello sir, we're-"

"Are you the companions, I hired?"

"Well…yes."

"You don't look like much." He eyed Vincent carefully. "I was figuring you'd both be big muscled Nords."

Vincent smiled. "Surprise!"

Loreius did not look amused. In fact he glared at the redhead. "Doesn't matter I guess as long as you get the job done." he looked Vincent up and down and scowled deeply. " You've met that man down there. Cicero?"

"We have." Vilkas answered, crossing his arms and not liking the way this man talked or looked at Vincent.

"I want him removed."

"With all due respect, sir…" Vincent insisted. "If you just helped him fix the cart, I think he'd go on his way."

"Help him?" he scoffed. "Have you seen him?! The way he dresses, his so called 'mother'? Who knows what could be in that crate! Anything! If it's something illegal, I don't want to get caught up in it! Just…DO what I hired you for and get rid of him!"

Vilkas nodded. It shouldn't be too hard to remove the fool but Vincent started to insist. Gods, bless him.

"Look, he needs your help! You can't judge him by his appearance and what you MAY think he's doing." He put his gloved hands on his hips and frowned at the imperial. "He could be sincere and yes, he's a bit crazy, any one could see that but that doesn't mean you should refuse to help him."

Vilkas remained silent. It was…interesting. He didn't want to admit it but the mage was correct and by the look on Loreius' face, he must have felt it too.

"B-but what if he's…" Loreius scowl deepened but a slightly guilty look stayed on his face.

"Help him." Vincent insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"You're right…It was…un-neighborly for me not to help him. Go tell Cicero that I'll be down in a while and that I'm sorry." The man gently shut his door and Vincent stormed back down the hill with a look of triumph. Well shit. His mate had a pair of balls on him…

"Good news, Cicero." Vincent spoke when they reached the fool again. " He agreed to help fix your wagon."

"Oh…OH..OHHHH! THANK YOU STRANGER!" Cicero was on Vincent quicker than either could react and hugged the poor mage tightly. Vilkas felt himself snap and growl. He wrenched the mage from the fool's grip and held him tightly at his side. He was vaguely aware that he could still hear himself growling but he was focused on the fool and his movements. Cicero's hands flew up defensively yet he was still grinning. "Oh, so sorry. I've angered the hound it seems. Here's the gold promised and thank you stranger! Mother thanks you both…"

Cicero flicked the gold to Vilkas and the angered man caught it easily with one hand. Then he started dragging a startled Vincent away and down the road, hating how Cicero waved until they were out of sight.

"Vilkas. Stop. Let go."

"No."

"Vilkas!"

Vilkas suddenly stopped walking but didn't let go of the Mages' wrist. "What?" He growled again and knew he saw the redhead shudder this time. So that's how it was….

"He's like a child. You didn't have to get so angry!"

"He was touching you."

"So? You're going to attack and growl at every person who touches me?"

Vilkas bit back another growl. He really didn't want to talk about this right now. "…."

"Wait…" Vincent ripped his wrist away from Vilkas' grip with some difficulty. "You're not jealous of him, are you?"

"I'm not." Vilkas' fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his wolf still thankfully silent.

"You need to trust me Vilkas. There was no harm in letting the fool give me a hug."

"I didn't want him touching you." Vilkas tried to keep his voice flat an even. "That's all."

"That's it?"

"Aye."

Vincent stared at him for a good minute before speaking. "Give me a good reason that I shouldn't slap you silly."

Vilkas was slightly taken aback. "You'd have to be able to hit me first." seemed the natural response.

"You're not that fast, Vilkas."

"Neither are you…" he let another subtle growl pass his lips and watched his mate's reaction.

Vincent was on him in a heartbeat but not in the way that one would suspect. Vilkas could have moved… could have dodged… but Vincent's movement's held no actual malice to them. So he let them collide. Their lips clashed together as he thought they would and he wrapped his arms tightly aground the mage's waist. Neither seemed to care as Vincent fisted his hands in the Vilkas' hair and drew himself closer if possible.

They were far away enough from Whiterun and that fool that Vilkas didn't worry about the openly public display of affection. So, they just stayed there awhile. Their lips were gently caressing as the aggressiveness formed from the conversation had vanished. The world around them seemed to ebb away as Vilkas lost himself in the feel of his mate's mouth.

"Why can't you just admit you're jealous..?" Vincent spoke softly between their lips.

Vilkas connected their lips again instead of answering and moved one hand up to hold Vincent by the nape of his neck. He played with the soft crimson hair there and felt Vincent smile against his mouth. He felt Vincent's hands move to encircle his back and gently claw at his armor, as if trying to find a place to dig his nails in. Vilkas thanked the Gods that he couldn't. Vilkas was pretty sure he'd lose it if scratching suddenly came into the picture.

Then suddenly…that feeling returned. That feeling of being watched but only this time it was burning and hot. It felt like someone was glaring at him and practically burring a hole in the back of his head. His wolf must have felt it too because it stirred and growled.

Vilkas' eyes opened and glanced down at the mage without parting their lips. Vincent's eyes were serenely shut as his pretty little mouth moved against Vilkas'. It made the werewolf groan softly and there was nothing he wanted more then to just get lost in the feeling of his mate now…but something was wrong. The burning stare was still present so he reluctantly pulled his mouth away.

He saw Vincent's head fall forward slightly as if to connect again but he caught himself and those copper eyes opened, slightly hazy with arousal and serenity. Vilkas managed to tear his eyes away from the sight and glanced around them. The hair on his nape was standing on end but the seething feeling started to fade until it was gone entirely.

"Vilkas?"

"It's…nothing."

"It's going to rain again…"

Vilkas looked back, slightly surprised and caressed the redhead's cold cheek and hair with his fingertips. "How can you tell…?"

"Leaves on the tree's bend to receive water when it's about to rain. It's in the air…cant you smell it?"

"I was a bit…distracted."

Vincent smiled and looped his arms around Vilkas' shoulders. "Take me back and we'll continue indoors?"

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"How old are you anyway?"

Vilkas looked up from his mead and glanced at the mage seated beside him. They were seated in the mead hall and night had fallen by the time they'd got back. Aela and Farkas had come back earlier and retired to their respective quarters. Even Torvar and Athis seemed too tired today to drink, so that left them alone upstairs. The fire pit was still lit but they had decided to blow out the candles and pull chairs closer to the fire.

Vincent was nursing his own cup of mead, and wore a pretty smile on his face as he watched Vilkas. The light of the fire was dancing off his hair and skin, making him look radiant. Vilkas wasn't sure if that was the wolf influencing his thoughts about the mage or if those thoughts were really his own…

"How old am I?" Vilkas repeated and tore his eye away from the vision.

"That's right."

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just curious." He heard Vincent shift slightly in the chair.

"And if I don't want to tell you?"

"I ask Farkas instead? After all, you are the same age…"

"Ah. I see." He looked back up in time to see the mage chuckle and down some of his mead. "Don't have to much of that. It'll go to your head."

"Don't avoid the question." Vincent winked and put the mead aside. "Tell me."

Vilkas didn't see why this mattered but he answered anyway. "Farkas and I are twenty-five." Vincent instantly snorted and made Vilkas raise a brow. "What?"

"I thought you'd be older."

"Do I look older?"

"Yes."

"How much older?"

"I figured you'd be in your thirties at least."

"Well, I'm not." Vilkas wasn't sure whether or not he should be offended. He decided not to be and set his own mug aside.

He glanced at the mage and saw Vincent's head cock to the side slightly when they met eyes. He lifted his hand and held it out slightly. Within a moment, Vincent rose from his seat and seated himself on Vilkas' lap without a word. Vilkas' outstretched hand instantly rested on Vincent's hip to keep him stable while sitting there. The action no longer felt awkward and Vilkas didn't even need to pat his own lap anymore.

"Can I have some of your mead? I finished mine." Vincent asked, looping one of his arms around Vilkas' shoulders for support.

Vilkas reached over to where he'd set his mug down without dislodging the redhead from his lap and handed it over to him. "Careful not to get drunk."

"I sleep better when I am." Vincent sighed and took a long gulp out of it. He sighed again at the look Vilkas gave him. "I promise I wont though. I'll stop when I start to feel dizzy."

Vilkas scoffed and rubbed Vincent's hip gently. The fabric of Vincent's coat caressed his fingers and gave him slight pause. "Where did you get this coat?"

"Hum?"

"It is…obviously special to you. You always wear it."

Those copper eyes glanced down into the mug as if it held all the answers. "My sister."

"What?"

"My sister made it. Sewed it for me."

"Oh."

"It is special to me because she made it special. It took her years to scrounge around enough gold to pay for the material. At first I thought she was making herself a blanket or something else useful." He smiled a gentle understanding smile and twirled the mug in his hands. "When I found out what she was making, and that it was for me, I told her to stop. High Rock was not as cold as Skyrim and I didn't need a coat when working on the farms." He shook his head and half chuckled. "She was stubborn though. Just like you, Vilkas. Once she had a thought or an idea, it was near impossibly to deter her from course. She finished the coat and thrust it into my arms. She told me…"

Vilkas looked up at Vincent silently. He knew this couldn't be easy to talk about… "What did she say?"

"She…" The redhead cleared his throat. "She said that _'I made it, so you better wear it!'_ " he chuckled almost humorlessly. "It was the ugliest, most garish outfit I've ever worn…but I love it because she made it just for me…"

Vilkas wasn't really sure what to say. He wanted to make Vincent happy and he knew the memories of his late sister was probably not helping him.

"So, how old are you then?" Vilkas asked, changing the subject and rubbing the mage's hip in an odd attempt to soothe him. Hey, at least he was trying.

"Do you think I'm younger or older then you, Vilkas?"

"Well…" Vilkas began. "By the look of you, I'd guess you were younger."

"Wrong." Finally light returned to his eyes. "I'm twenty-seven. I'm two years older."

"…."

"Surprised?"

"Very."

"Well, I'm not lying."

"I believe you." Vilkas looked into the fire and sighed. "I know you don't want to talk about it…but I could stand to know more about you." He felt Vincent stiffen on his lap slightly so he rubbed his hip gently. "If you don't want to…"

"No…No. It's…probably best you do know." Vincent gave the mug to Vilkas and Vilkas downed the contents in one gulp before setting it aside.

"So?"

"The man who…adopted me…"

"Cadrian. Right?"

"Right. Cadrian Belemonde." He spoke with his voice teetering on mockery and distaste. "Noblemen, philanthropist, master wizard and…" He paused. "…A complete and utter jackass."

"I take it you hate him." Vilkas spoke obviously in an attempt to clear the air.

"To put it lightly. I should have never left. We should have never gone with him. I just kept thinking…that Grace could get the care she needs if we do…even though everything in me screamed it was wrong." he bit his lip and rested his head against the crook in Vilkas' neck. "My time there was a nightmare. He wanted to find an apprentice to carry on his legacy. I wasn't the only boy he adopted. We all had to study magic, be put through rigorous training, and practically be his servants."

"Did you win?"

"…All I could think about was caring for Grace and if winning this apprenticeship got me what I needed, I was going to do it. Before I left, it was down to me and one other boy."

"What happened to the other boys?"

"They died." He spoke hollowly. "some died from master spells backfiring…two committed suicide….Cadrian killed one on the first day for messing up a novice spell and spilling water on his shoes… and some just….vanished. We figured they ran away but I could have sworn that I could hear them at night… screaming faintly as if carried on the wind."

Vilkas instantly wrapped his arm tighter around Vincent. "I see."

"Cadrian is everything you hate in a mages…and during my time with him I regretted many things that happened…but they all led me here…so…a-and I…found the companions…I found…" He let his words die off there but they locked eyes for a moment and everything unspoken drifted between them.

They both knew it now…but neither were ready to confess.


	13. Bring on the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He saw the mage's face twist in a mix of emotions. He saw worry, elation, fear, confusion and panic all in one passionate rush in his eyes. Then it faded and it looked as if he'd burst into tears.

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"Well, that's another waste of a day."

Farkas looked over and him and shrugged. "I don't know brother. We did prevent a civil war within our town."

Vilkas glanced at his brother and shook his head. "It's only a matter of time before the Battle-Born's and they Grey-Mane's go at it. All we've done is put a lid on a boiling cauldron."

Farkas stopped near the blooming tree in the town square. Every year it got less and less beautiful but it was still a nice sight. Vilkas stopped with him and folded his arms.

"Well, it's over for now."

"Right."

"Kodlak has been keeping us all really busy lately." Farkas started lamely, so Vilkas knew something was up instantly. "How is everything?"

Vilkas studied him for a minute before sighing. "You mean between Vincent and me?"

Farkas nodded his head rapidly like an excitable puppy. "Yes, please."

"We're okay."

"….that's it?"

"Aye."

"Have you…talked with him yet?" There was slight desperation in his voice, and it slightly irritated Vilkas.

"We've talked but not about what I'm sure you're referring to. He doesn't want to talk about it and I'm not pushing him into it. He's here with me and that's all that matters."

He saw Farkas' shoulders sag slightly and a slight droopy look come to him. "Brother…"

"No. Don't start Farkas."

"But Vilkas…"

"No." And he started to walk away but a huge hand grabbed his arm and held him there.

"You're not happy like this."

Vilkas stopped struggling and looked up at his twin. "Excuse me?"

"I can tell. You're holding yourself back. You're hurting yourself. You're not happy."

Vilkas violently pulled his arm from his brother's grasp and glared icily up at him. "What would you suggest then, hum? If I don't hold myself back, I'll hurt him. Is that what you want?"

"N-no. That's not what I-"

"Forget about it Farkas. It's no concern of yours."

"It is, brother." Farkas insisted. "If not for the fact you're my kin, then the fact Vincent is a friend. It's not just me either. Aela is involved and Kodlak is involved…The whole circle is involved in this Vilkas."

"Well it's no one's business but my own."

"Aela is close to Vincent. She voiced her concern to me the other day. We're both worried about you and Vincent."

"There is nothing to worry about."

"It's not just you holding back, Vilkas!"

Vilkas blinked confused. "What?"

Farkas looked around quickly and found the square empty, save for them. "It's obvious that Vincent is holding back too. He's afraid of hurting you or making you so angry that you send him away. It's so hard to watch you two just dance circles around each other like this. Aela and I want to lock you both in a room, and have you sort it out that way."

"That's not happening."

"I know, brother but please listen…" Farkas took the risk and laid a hand on Vilkas shoulder. A look of relief crossed his face when Vilkas didn't shove the arm away. "Aela tells me something foul is on the wind. Animals have started acting weird and everything just feels colder. Every time I leave Whiterun…I feel like I'm being watched. Haven't you felt it too?"

Vilkas nodded grimly. "Aye. I've felt it."

"Something bad is coming for us, brother and we need to be there for each other. In order for this to happen…there can't be anything loose between you and Vincent. You need to trust him to watch your back and him, you. Have you told him you love him yet?"

Vilkas opened his mouth to protest but the look Farkas gave him silenced the comeback. He simply replied, "No."

"You need to."

"What difference does it make?" Vilkas scoffed. "Words are just words and don't mean a damn thing."

"I'm sure it would mean something to him."

"Why's that?"

"Well, maybe if he heard it, he wouldn't be so afraid to tell you things."

Vilkas opened his mouth to speak but shut it again. He honestly didn't know what to say. What Farkas said, did make sense, and yet he was having a hard time agreeing with him. So he stared up instead at the dark grey clouds and sighed. He wondered if it would rain after all.

"Brother…"

Vilkas sighed again and looked back into the eyes that matched his own. "Fine."

Farkas instantly perked up like an excitable puppy. "Really?"

"Aye. I'll talk to him about it." Farkas instantly hugged him and Vilkas flailed slightly to keep his balance. He shoved at his brother's shoulders and let out a frustrated grunt when Farkas didn't budge. "Alright…Alright! Let go now!"

Farkas obeyed and smiled broadly at him. "Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for, ice-brain?"

Farkas just shrugged and resumed walking back to Jorrvaskr. Vilkas rolled his eyes and followed. They reached the top of the steps and Farkas moved to open the door. It opened a crack before he stopped moving. Vilkas looked at his brother curiously but Farkas put a finger to his lips in a _'quiet'_ motion.

Vilkas moved cautiously closer to the door and he could now hear a foreign voice speaking softly with Kodlak.

"So you will not cooperate, Harbinger, White mane?" The stranger's voice was hollow and aristocratically polite. He was also a young man by the sound of it. Vilkas could hear annoyance in that voice though and vague distain.

"No. I am sorry but Jorrvaskr is a sanctuary."

"A sanctuary?" The young man scoffed. "This place is a disgrace. A hovel of drunkards seeking swift death which we will bring, if cooperation is not met."

"I am a reasonable man, lord Theodistair, but I will not take threats in my hall. I have to ask you to leave now."

"Are you serious? That's your answer?"

"Aye lad. That's my answer. Scurry back to your master."

"You will regret this." The voice came out almost like a snake hiss. The strangers' footsteps carried them closer to the door and Vilkas and Farkas backed away from it quickly.

Within moments a young, well dressed man burst the doors wide open in a visible rage. He was a Breton…that much was clear the moment Vilkas laid eyes on him. His hair was long and black and held itself back with a crimson ribbon. His eyes eerily matched the ribbon in his hair and he was adored in deep purples and blacks.

His red eyes first fell on Farkas, whom stood directly in front of him. "Out of the way, barbarian." Farkas folded his arms and scowled but moved out of his way. As the man moved past, his eyes next fell on Vilkas and it stopped him dead in his tracks.

Vilkas starred back, not liking the look of this man, nor the way he'd spoken to Kodlak and his brother. His icy eyes hardened as the man cracked a mocking grin.

"Humph. I thought you'd be more impressive up close. Pathetic."

"You look as weak as your voice sounded." Vilkas retorted.

He saw those red eyes narrow and a heated glare suddenly shot out at him. It felt…vaguely familiar. "Watch your tongue, worm…before I rip it from your mouth."

"I will not be intimidated by idle threats. You have no place here, whelp. Leave."

The young man sniggered and spit at Vilkas' feet. Then he moved past without touching him and vanished down the steps and into the marketplace.

"Who in the Gods' name was that?" Farkas moved slightly closer to Vilkas.

"That was Daric Theodistair." Kodlak spoke from the doorway, making them turn their attention on him. "He claims to be a traveling dignitary from High Rock."

"What did he want?" Vilkas asked.

Kodlak paused and looked back and forth between the twins. "Farkas….could you go inside? I need to speak with Vilkas."

"Yeah. Sure." Farkas glanced at his brother with a worried stare but did as Kodlak commanded.

When they were alone Kodlak walked up to Vilkas and put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh lad…how do I say this…?"

"Just say it." Vilkas didn't like where this was going.

"That man said he'd come on behalf of his master. He was sent to reclaim lost property."

"Lost property? The companions haven't stolen anything."

"It's not a thing, boy. Apparently that man's master is seeking to reclaim our resident mage."

Vilkas' eyes widened. "Vincent? They're after Vincent?"

"Aye lad. He demanded I hand him over of suffer the consequences." Vilkas began to bristle so Kodlak attempted to soothe him. "I said no, of course. You and Farkas heard as much I'm sure."

"What can we do? We'll fight, right? I'm not handing Vincent over to them!" His voice came out a bit louder then attended and Kodlak held up a hand to silence him.

"Vilkas. Calm yourself lad. We will not be handing over anyone. If Vincent wants to stay, then he stays. He is one of us now and we will protect him from these people…but listen boy…A storm is coming. So violent and horrible we all might not make it through. I need you to be strong. I need you to hold it together, if not for yourself, then for Vincent. He will need you in this upcoming tide, now more then ever."

"Aye…" Vilkas didn't like the sound of any of this. It was making the hair on his arms stand on end.

"Tonight, I'm sending Vincent away on a mission. I've already discussed the mission with him and what he'll be doing. For safety reason's I cannot tell you exactly where he is going but I can tell you that it is for our benefit and is nothing he can't handle alone."

"I…I don't…"

"He's not gone yet, lad. You can still speak with him…I just think it's best if he stays covertly away from Jorrvaskr for a short while."

"If…You think that's best…"

Kodlak pat him heavily on the shoulder. "Do you trust me?"

"Aye. With my life."

"Then trust me on this. When the storm comes, it is best for him to be clear of it. I will need you and all your strength in this upcoming time Vilkas. Trust my judgment. Nothing bad will happen to Vincent. I swear it on my life."

"Aye. I trust you."

"Good lad. Now go on in and spend this night with him before he leaves. You won't see him for at least a week." Vilkas moved to go past him but Kodlak stopped him. "And…don't tell Vincent that, that man was here. It's best he doesn't know for now. It would only cloud his judgment and in order for him to be save, he'll need a clear mind."

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"And then, Aela punched the guy right in the face and sent him over the table, flailing like a fish!" Vincent laughed and leaned against Vilkas' chest.

Vilkas hummed in response and kept his arms tightly around the mages' middle. They were sitting on the floor in Vilkas' room right up against the bed. Vilkas had the redhead in his lap as they talked about the latest mission Aela and the mage had been on.

"He got up, and Gods was he pissed! So, he picked up a frying pan…"

"Ummmhum…"

"Are you okay tonight Vilkas?"

Vilkas looked down and saw concerned Copper eyes starring up at him. "Aye. I'm fine."

"Is this about later?" He asked gently. "About Kodlak sending me on that mission?"

"I don't know why you have to do this alone. I could go with you…"

"Kodlak has his reason's, I'm sure."

Vilkas huffed and buried his nose in those crimson colored locks, taking in that wonderful flame sent. "I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Everything will be okay Vilkas." He smiled prettily up at him and turned in his lap so he could face him.

Vilkas looked back down at him and sighed. The encounter that day was still buzzing in his head. Who was that man really…? And how did he know Vincent? Why did they want him so badly…? Was this why Vincent was so worried about being protected? Such innocent questions were suddenly starting to make sense…and he would drown his enemies in blood to keep Vincent safe.

Vilkas leaned down and nuzzled the mage gently. He almost smiled when he felt Vincent respond positively to the touch. He kissed the corner of his mouth before trailing hot kisses down his delicate looking jaw. He rested a hand against Vincent's cheek but let his thumb stay gently against the mage's lips as he tilted Vincent's head to the side slightly so he could resume kissing down his neck.

He felt Vincent shudder in his grasp and overlap Vilkas' hand with his own. Vilkas attached his mouth to Vincent's mate mark to lick and bite softly at the slightly scarred skin. He heard Vincent gasp and looked up just in time to see the redhead's soft pink tongue poke through his lips and caress the pad of Vilkas' thumb. He growled against his skin as he felt the blood rush south a bit too quickly, and left him a bit lightheaded. He pulled the mage closer against his body and more into his lap. He knew Vincent could feel him by the little _"ooh."_ that passed his lips but Vilkas could feel the mage had a similar problem, so he wasn't as embarrassed as he would have been otherwise.

Vilkas could start feeling his wolf begin to stir and it almost stopped him mid motion. A low growl came from the deepest part of him and made his grip on the mage tighten. His body suddenly felt so hypersensitive and Vincent's scent made his head spin. Every breath the mage made against Vilkas' skin and every gentle caress just seemed to make things… _Harder…_

"Are you okay?" Vincent asked, caressing Vilkas' hair gently.

Vilkas bit back a groan at the contact and managed to nod and croak out a husky, "Aye."

"Are you holding back for my sake?"

Vilkas managed to peer up at him slightly curious at the question. "What?"

"Aela told me a few things…" He shifted slightly nervous in Vilkas' lap. Vilkas grabbed hold of the mage's hips to keep him from moving and growled. Vincent smiled apologetically. "You don't need to hold back on my account, Vilkas. I'm not made of glass and I won't break."

The wolf howled in agreement and it echoed in Vilkas' brain. "Don't….say that. I'll take you seriously."

"I am serious."

Vilkas snarled and suddenly shoved the mage against the floor and climbed atop him. Vincent looked slightly surprised but otherwise undeterred. "Do you know what you do to me? What you're doing to me?!" Vilkas snarled, gritting his teeth slightly.

He saw a soft blush come to Vincent's cheeks and he gave a half smile. "I can take a guess."

"The night I marked you was a hint of things to come." He slid his hand down Vincent's neck and rested on his mate mark. "If you think this hurt…It would only be worse."

"Vilkas…"

"I'd lose control of myself! I won't be able to stop until I…"

Vincent looked up at him sadly. "And that scares you…"

It seemed like it was the hardest thing Vilkas ever had to do but he nodded. "Aye."

The redhead held out his arms invitingly and Vilkas moved into his embrace. He tucked his head under the mage's chin and shut his eyes tightly while clinging to him for dear life. It was rare for him to show such weakness to someone, but he didn't care at this moment and all he wanted was the comfort only his mate could bring him.

After a short time, Vilkas' breathing calmed down and his death grip on the mage loosed slightly. He sat up and Vincent followed his action. Vincent's smile was sweet and held all of the understanding in Nirn. Gods bless him.

"Vilkas…" He leaned in and kissed Vilkas' lips gently. "…We'll be okay..."

Those words had meant the world and Vincent stayed close, not pulling away from their closeness. Vilkas tilted his head slightly to the side and brushed his lips softly against his mate's again. His wolf was eerily calm and contented for the moment and it blossomed a slight worry within Vilkas but also a soft relief.

"Ah. To be young again…"

Both their heads turned in direction of the door to see Kodlak standing there with a proud smile. Vilkas face palmed in slight embarrassment. "Kodlak…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt lads, but it's time."

Vilkas sighed heavily and looked at his mage, whom had a similar look to his own. This little fantasy they had shrouded themselves in had come to an end and it was time for reality to slink its ugly head back in.

"I'll be back before you know it." Vincent spoke softly and got to his feet. Vilkas followed closely after as if he was his shadow.

Kodlak smiled sadly for a moment in thought. "Vincent is going by carriage most of the way. Do you want to see him off, Vilkas?"

"Aye."

Vincent went over to his bag in the corner and shuffled through its contents. Vilkas saw Vincent pull out two vials of his medicine and shove them in his pockets. Vilkas saw he had one left over before he shut the bag and set it aside. He gathered up his mace from the rack he's laid it on and hid it safely away inside his coat. Then he put his gloves and shoes on. Vilkas felt a slight stir of pride to know the mage trusted him enough to not wear his gloves when they were only in each others company. He grabbed his sword from the stand, just in case, and followed the mage and Kodlak out.

They all put on hooded cloaks for the trip down. It had began to rain, although it was still gentle. It was also dark and cold this night and the rain could possibly turn to snow if it was just a hair colder. Vilkas had wondered why this trip couldn't wait until the morning, but Kodlak had insisted in their previous conversation that morning, that it must be tonight. Vincent's pursuers would have slinked back to wherever their superiors were hiding and tonight would be the only night the mage could slip away without them noticing.

Vilkas kept a watchful eye on the dark surroundings, as Kodlak and Vincent walked ahead slightly. They spoke to each other in soft whispers, probably about the mission. Although he didn't like this and somewhere deep down he had a horrible feeling, he still trusted Kodlak. Vilkas took a moment to watch two of the three people he cared about most in this world walk ahead of him. He didn't know what he'd do without them…

Kodlak nodded to the gate guards as they passed out of town and down the steep hill to the stables. The sky was dark, with no hint of a moon anywhere in sight. The dark clouds had blocked out all light in the sky and even the stars were missing. It was…unsettling.

"Come back as soon as you've finished lad. We'll be waiting." Kodlak spoke to Vincent, Loud enough for Vilkas to hear once they had reached the carriage. Kodlak then nodded to the cab driver, who seemed to know where their destination was, without words.

Vincent nodded, a bit grimly and grabbed hold of the carriage to climb up. Vilkas walked up behind him and took his hand to help him the rest of the way in. Even when Vincent was in and seated, Vilkas hadn't let go yet. They just stared at each other like it could be the last time in utter silence.

"Vilkas…" Kodlak laid a big hand on his shoulder and shook slightly. "It's time lad."

"I'd like to be off soon." The carriage driver called.

"Vincent…" Vilkas spoke, his worry starting to seep into his voice. "Listen…I…"

Vincent let a small ghost of a smile cross his lips. "Yes?"

Vilkas looked back at Kodlak for a moment and saw the old man nod approvingly. Vilkas put a foot up on the carriage and hoisted himself up for a moment so he could brush his lips against his mates. There, he whispered softly against his mouth, all the things he ever wanted to say in a heated rush. Then he pulled away as if the words had never left him and stood beside Kodlak.

He saw the mage's face twist in a mix of emotions. He saw worry, elation, fear, confusion and panic all in one passionate rush in his eyes. Then it faded and it looked as if he'd burst into tears. A slightly small smile came to his lips, despite this and Vilkas couldn't tell if it was the rain hitting Vincent cheek or if it was a tear drop. A loud crash of thunder echoed loudly around then and the horses whinnied nervously. The cab driver soothed them and called back that he couldn't wait any longer and began to drive off.

"Vilkas…" Vincent called out to him softly as he drove away. The rain was coming down harder now and all he could see was that beautiful smile that may have been slightly sad. "I love you too."

Then he was gone, vanished from view but Vilkas had heard him. Kodlak ushered him quietly back to Jorrvaskr without a word between them. Outside, it down poured with no sign of stopping.


	14. Broken Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sir, this is no medicine." She thrust the bottle into his hands, her own shaking. "Get the drinker of this medical attention immediately!"
> 
> "What are you talking about old woman?! Make sense!" Vilkas didn't like how she looked up at him.
> 
> "This is no medicine." she repeated, her lips and whole body shaking. "T-this…is…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon Character death. Slightly Asshole!Vilkas. some disturbing images and making more shit up.

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It was cold. His breath came out in nearly solid puffs in front of him before flouting up and dissolving into the darkness. The moon was gone, hidden behind dark storm clouds along with the stars. No light filtered through the dark abyss and he was truly alone. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the sound of his feet crushing along in the freezing snow. He reached his hand out to touch something…anything…that would help him find his way through the darkness. His hand scrapped along hard bark that cut sharply into his flesh, and he used it to balance himself, ignoring the slight pain it caused. He couldn't see more then a few feet in front of him, so it was a god send to feel something in a seemingly empty space.

"Kodlak..!" He rasped out, his voice sounding foreign and weak to himself. "Farkas…Aela…Vincent…! Anyone!?"

Silence answered him. He grunted at the lack of response and pressed on deeper into the darkness, abandoning the tree that granted him a comfort. He was alone and the thought made him almost panic. He could only rely on himself now. He flailed his arms around like a blind man looking for a wall to grab as he pressed on. He felt nothing but open air, and no further tree's to guide his path. He almost wanted to make a run backward for the tree again, but he found the daunting fact of being alone almost way too much to handle.

"Hello?! Anyone?!" Where the hell was everyone and why would they leave him like this?!

"Vilkas…" A sudden deep laugh and a quick movement out of the corner of his eye made him whirl around like a fool. Nothing was there of course but now his nerves were standing on end. Something was here with him and he didn't recognize that laugh or the voice it belonged to. For once…he felt like they prey and not the hunter.

He was so caught up in the threat that may or may not be there, that he didn't watch where he was going. Not that he really could anyway because of the darkness, but it didn't excuse his lack of attention. His foot hit something solid and sent him scrambling down into the snow. He caught himself on his arms but not before they got scraped up by the hard ground under the snow. He instantly smelled fresh blood and recoiled upright. It was dark but he could make out deep, dark marks of liquid in the fresh snow.

The smell made him want to gag but he scrambled about, looking for the solid object he had tripped on. His hand brushed up against coarse, matted hair and he looked down to find its source. His blue eyes widened and his mouth trembled slightly as he took in the sight. He tripped over the corpse of his beloved mentor and friend.

Kodlak.

He was lying on his back in an undignified position, mouth agape and tongue removed. He was naked and his bowls had been cut open and were strung about them in every direction. Vilkas made a distressed noise that sounded between a puppy's yelp and a choking sob as he covered his mouth in horror and heartbreak. He couldn't even speak in fear of choking up bile. He could feel tears prickling at his eyes as he crawled closer to the body.

"G-gods…Kodlak…" He finally managed to choke out and felt hot tears run down his face. He couldn't hold back the rising sick that formed in his throat and pulled his hand away as he vomited up a mix of water and stomach acid. His jaw clenched open painfully as he couldn't stop the flow that burned his entire throat. He tried to gasp and force air into his lungs. His vision was beginning to swim and he clawed at the cold ground. His throat tightened even though the stream of bile had stopped. He couldn't breathe! He was going to die here!

A sudden light burst into the clearing and lit up the area around him. Vilkas blinked as the light burned his sensitive eyes. He could suddenly breathe again and took a large gulp of air like a man starved. He coughed and sputtered as a wave of relief washed over his frame, making him shiver. The light warmed his face and made the tears that had almost felt frozen on his face, begin to dry. He dared not look back at Kodlak's form in the full light and instead tried to focus on its source. It was coming from deeper into a wooded area and the weary man climbed to his feet and weakly made his way there. Not once did he look back.

Vilkas followed the light, deeper and deeper into the wood and the clearing melted away behind him. He wanted to scream and to just sit and cry by Kodlak's side but he knew crying would do nothing for either of them right now. He was a warrior and he had to be strong for both of them now. There was no one to look over his shoulder and guide him. He couldn't go to him and ask for a second opinion. He'd been groomed as a master-at-arms and a second-in-command, so it was time to start acting like it.

Greif was still heavy in his heart but he pressed on for what seemed like an age. Every time he got closer to the light it seemed to blast further ahead of him and he almost had to run to catch up. His body still ached from before, but he forced himself to press on, even though his feet felt like lead. Eventually the light seemed to stop and he finally caught up. The light was brightest in a small clearing and the intensity of that light almost made Vilkas turn away. Almost.

He put a hand up to shield his eyes as he pressed closer to the light. He reached a shaky hand out to touch the source of the light and almost pulled his hand back when he felt extreme heat radiating off of it. It was so hot; he feared he might burn his hand. He pressed on, however, determined not to give up now…not when he was so close…

As soon as his fingers made contact with the bulb of light, it dimmed and the heat diminished. First thing Vilkas noticed was Vincent. His eyes were instantly drawn to his mate's form. He was on his knees, facing Vilkas but his head was tipped down and shrouded by his hair. In front of him, came the source of the light.

A small girl.

Vilkas still found it hard to look directly at her, despite the light dimming. She was still radiant and glowing with an ethereal light that was both haunting and oddly comforting. She had a delicate hand on Vincent's shoulder and whispered soothing words in his ear. Her hair was dark and flowing even though no wind blew. She wore a dress that flowed like her hair, down to her ankles and she stood barefoot in the snow. She seemed like a delicate thing that would blow away if a stiff breeze came by, but Vilkas could also feel strength radiating off her small frame. His eye instantly drew to an amulet she wore about her neck and his breath caught slightly.

An amulet of Talos?

"Will you take care of him?" The girl asked, her voice echoing and sounding slightly whimsical.

The question startled Vilkas and he was taken aback. "W-what?"

She smiled, not unkindly. "Will you take care of this man?" She pat Vincent on the shoulder gently, but his mate did not react. He kept his head bent in submission and didn't even breathe.

"I…" Vincent frowned and his fists clenched at his sides. "I can't."

The girl frowned at this. "Why not?"

"I can't protect him." It was one of the hardest things he ever had to admit but he felt compelled to tell this girl the truth. "I can't protect anyone…everything is falling apart around me! I can't even…"

"Protect yourself." She finished for him.

"Aye…"

"Relax, Vilkas." When he tensed, she smiled again. "Yes. This one knows your name. This one has shown you what you must see. We are about to tell you something, Vilkas, warrior of Jorrvaskr, Commander-at-arms, twin to Farkas, friend to Aela the huntress, trusted of Kodlak White mane, and beloved of Vincent Renalt. We know all about you and what fate has in store for you."

"What does it have?" Vilkas asked, taking a cautious step closer.

The girl did not stop him. "It is dangerous for mortal men to know the future." she sighed and it sounded like a gentle wind blowing through the trees. "We have already altered fate by coming to you like this. We cannot tell you too much but we can give you a warning."

"A-aye…" Vilkas was confused, scared, exhilarated, curious and cautious. "Go on then…."

She kept a hand on Vincent's shoulder and with her free hand, she reached out to Vilkas. On instinct, he reached out and took her hand, feeling warm comfort instantly flood into his soul. "Kneel." She spoke gently. It was a soft request but Vilkas felt compelled to obey her. He instantly dropped to his knees in the snow, directly in front of Vincent. His mate didn't lift his head.

"The world is dying." She started. "A sequence of events has started and even the Gods are powerless to stop it now. The world eater stirs and Nirn will soon need the Dragonborn."

"Dragonborn…?" He looked up at her. "I've heard the tale but…it's just a story."

"Not just a story, Vilkas." she confirmed sadly. "His black wings are yet far off but he will stir…and when he does…all of Nirn will tremble in his wake. The end of the world is nigh and the world needs the Dragonborn."

Vilkas looked to Vincent, who had yet to stir, and then up at her again. "Is…Vincent…?"

She smiled. "No. He is not the one. Yet, he will play a part in the end times. He is a haunted creature." She rubbed his shoulder affectionately, but he did not stir. "Without you, however…He will fail. What hunts him will claim him and he will live a fate worse then death."

"What can I do then?"

"Ah. Now you ask questions that we can answer clearly." She seemed happy all of a sudden and it confused Vilkas. "Things are in motion that cannot be stopped now but when the time comes, he will need your support and your strength. Your heart and your soul. Everything you are, he will need and we have faith in you making the right decision."

"…" This was a lot to take in and all the information made Vilkas dizzy. She looked sympathetic when she gazed upon him now and gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

"It is a lot to take in, Vilkas, more then we have any right to ask of you…but we must leave you with one last warning." She slipped her hand out of Vilkas' effortlessly and moved daintily behind Vincent's hunched over form. She wrapped her pretty little arms around his shoulders and rested her head upon his own. "A storm hovers above. The dark wizard rises and falls. Within two cycles of Nirn the world eater stirs and the world will burn and break. The sea will dry out, the mountains will crumble and all living things will plummet into the abyss."

Vilkas trembled in the snow, feeling like a small child again. He kept his eyes glued to the sight and took a deep breath. "So...that's it?"

"Yes. This is how things will be." She smiled and began to fade like a ghost. "…But not how it should be…" Then she was gone. The amulet did not fade with her and fell between the two men in the snow.

It glowed softly and kept the area lit dimly around them. Vilkas reached down in the snow to touch it, only to find himself beaten to the punch by the scarred hand of his mate. It was the first movement he'd seen the mage make since he arrived and the sudden motion had scared him.

"Vincent?"

The mage lifted the amulet up and lifted his head. Vilkas' breath caught in his throat and his heart hammered against his breastplate. He looked into the eyes of the man he loved and found them shockingly blue.

"Vincent….?" He repeated more in awe now then before and reached out to touch his face. Vincent moved his hand and grabbed Vilkas' before it made its way to his cheek. The amulet of Talos pushed against his palm and began glowing brighter and brighter.

"Vilkas…"

\-------  
Vilkas woke with a start, shooting up in bed so quick that it made his head spin. He groaned and stretched his tired body before thrusting the sheets aside. He had to remember to breathe for a moment and twisted his hands into his hair. What a bizarre dream…He wanted to sit and worry about what it could have meant and why it seemed so real but he needed to go speak to Kodlak and make sure the old man was okay.

He quickly got dressed and rushed to the Harbinger's room, only to find the old man sitting up at the desk he was at when Vincent first walked in the door. He smiled kindly at Vilkas a gestured to the seat beside him. Vilkas knew better then to pass it up and took the seat offered. They sat in silence for awhile, just looking at each other. Vilkas wanted to speak of his dream but he honestly didn't know where to start.

"You are troubled lad." Kodlak spoke first. "You need not talk about what haunts your dreams because I too dream of things that have not yet come to pass."

"How did you…-"

"Know?" Kodlak finished with a big smile. "You have the same haunted look that I used to get when confronted with such things. I noticed this look on you before…back before Vincent joined the circle. How long have you been dreaming of such things?"

Vilkas sighed and put his hands in his lap. "This is the third time. The first time was right around the time you said. Right before Vincent joined the circle…back before I marked him. I've had the same dream again but this one was different than the other two."

"I believe the gods are trying to speak with us, Vilkas. This makes me fear for our mortal souls. When we pass, it's the hunting grounds for us…and I've been thinking about it more and more since Skjor died. My dreams have been less frequent as of late. I think the Gods have lost interest in me and my dreams. Perhaps you are to replace me." He smiled kindly, showing no malice or disdain in the statement.

Vilkas was too confused to properly respond to that and honestly he didn't understand. Was this some kind of magic or something? He decided not to push it and asked the question that had been plaguing him. "The mission you sent Vincent on…was it…important?"

"In a way yes." Kodlak confirmed. "I found it….convenient. Vincent needed to get away from Jorrvaskr for awhile and we needed a job done. It may be selfish of me Vilkas and I hope you'll forgive me."

"He's…not in any danger is he?"

"What we do is dangerous lad." He replied grimly. "He may be in great danger with what I've sent him to do but I have faith in his ability and I'm sure he'll be home within the week."

"You can't tell me?"

"Not until he is back or the threat has passed. Sorry lad."

"You tell me everything." Vilkas spoke, suddenly standing upright. "Why keep something like this from me!?"

"It is for Vincent's safety as well as your own. If you don't know where he is, you cannot be interrogated for the answer. We do not know the strength of our foe, not yet and we cannot take risks."

Vilkas shook slightly but nodded. "…Aye. Okay."

"Good lad." Kodlak stood with him and pat him on the shoulder. "Keep the dream from your mind…at least for now. When Vincent comes back, we will all sit down and talk it over. Okay?"

"Aye."

That was all he was going to get out of the old man for now and he would have to force himself to be content with the answer.

\--------  
Vilkas started to worry by three days and as the week came and gone, Vilkas was a flat out mess inside his own head. Vincent had only taken enough medicine with him to last six days and as the seventh day ended, he was in a panic. He tried to convince himself that Vincent could take care of himself and find some alchemy ingredients in his travels to make some more medicine, but he couldn't keep from worrying.

In front of everyone, he was stoic and composed. He carried on like normal, strong, confident and focused. When he was alone at night, however, he found his dreams plagued by demons, gods, or the inability to sleep at all. He just kept dreaming the same thing. Over and over…sleep no longer came easy. These past seven days had been a special hell inside his own head.

No one else may have noticed, but Farkas sure did. Vilkas found himself approached by his twin on the dawn of the eighth day, as he was donning his armor in his room. Vilkas looked up briefly as Farkas strolled in without saying anything, before he looked back down and adjusted the strap on his armor.

"Farkas." he started casually. "Something wrong, brother?"

"Yes, there is." Farkas stood in the doorway.

"Is it important? I have a lot of things to do for Kodlak today."

"No you don't." Farkas sighed heavily. "I had the old man give the job today to Aela."

Vilkas paused and looked up at his brother. The jobs he was sent on were his only solace. His mind was occupied with the job and not Vincent, the dreams or Kodlak. He couldn't help but show some anger in his eyes and he saw his brother flinch slightly. "Why would you do that?"

"You need to relax!" Farkas spoke coming a bit closer. "You may have everyone else fooled but not me. Our rooms are right next to each other and I can hear you toss and cry out in your sleep."

"I'm fine…"

"You're not fine!" Farkas broke the distance and grabbed Vilkas by the shoulders. "I've known you long enough to know when you lie and Gods-be-damned Vilkas, don't you dare lie to me!"

Vilkas' eyes widened slightly at his twin's outburst. "Farkas…"

"Look, I'm sorry." Farkas sighed but didn't let go of him. "I wish I could share this pain with you."

"I wouldn't wish that for you." Vilkas spoke firmly. "This hell is my own and I will not share it with those I love."

Farkas' look softened slightly and he gave a half smile. "You don't want to talk about it?"

"Just…bad dreams, Farkas. I'm sure they will fade with time."

"Annnnd?" Farkas prodded, almost playfully.

"And, what?"

"You know what. Tell me what I want to hear, brother."

Vilkas sighed and rolled his eyes slightly. "And…I miss Vincent."

"THANK YOU!" He exclaimed and threw his hands up dramatically. "Your ice heart finally melts brother! About time."

"Maybe someday your ice brain will melt. Wont that be wonderful?" he huffed when Farkas gave him the puppy eyes. "You are such a child." Vilkas protested but couldn't stop a ghost of a smile from coming to his own face.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway." Farkas then dug around in his pocket and produced something…which he then childishly hid behind his back. Thus, proving Vilkas correct. "Guess what…?"

"…."

"Come on Vilkas…Guess what?"

"…."

"COME ON…"

"…."

"VILKAS. COME ON. GUESS WHAT."

"…Fine. What?"

"This came today." he produced a small parchment. "A courier brought it to the door."

He handed it over to Vilkas and the smaller twin opened the already broken seal and read the words upon them swiftly.

'K,

The mission is finished; I am on my way back,

V'

Vilkas heart nearly jumped up into his throat. "Is this…?"

"From Vincent? Kodlak said so, yeah. He told me to bring it down here to you."

"This is…" He paused. It was the one piece of good news he needed. "…good." He finished lamely.

"Yep!" Farkas beamed. "The courier said he was handed the letter by Vincent and everything a few days back. Vincent should be home any day now."

"I see." Vilkas smiled for real this time. It was a found smile at the thought of getting to see his beloved again. That's what they were right? They did exchange the words that should never be delivered lightly…

"Are you happy?"

Vilkas scoffed slightly but smiled at his twin. "Aye."

"Good." He held his arms out for a hug but Vilkas just shook his head, stubbornly.

"Save your bear hugs for Vincent when he comes back. He'll need them I'm sure." He turned away and went over to Vincent's bag on the floor. He opened it and started digging around in it.

"Brother…?" The heard the confusion in Farkas' voice and also a slight tensing. "What are you doing…?"

"I saw that Vincent only had one vial of medicine left." he spoke and went right for where he saw the vial last time. He found it easily enough without having to dig too much. As he pulled the small red bottle up, he closed up the mages' bag again. "We have an apothecary in town. I'll pay for them to make copies of this for him so he'll have plenty when he gets back."

"That's…thoughtful." Farkas seemed to relax slightly.

"Aye. I figured he'll be tired when he gets back and he'll probably need to take a dose right away. So I'll save him having to make more on his own."

"That's it?"

Vilkas sighed. "Aye, Farkas. That's it. I'm not prying into his business, I just want to make his life easier."

"Good then. Want company?"

"Sure. We'll go now if you're ready."

"I am."

"Okay then." He pocked the medicine and slung his sword on his back before heading out the door with Farkas in tow.

They made their way to Arcadia's Cauldron in the market place and the imperial woman poked her head up sharply as they entered.

"Hello! Hello! Ohhhh are one of you sick? You seem pale. Are you pale and sick, dearies?"

Vilkas ignored the question. "Can you make ten copies of this medicine? It is companion business and I will need them as soon as possible." he handed it over to the woman and she took the vial carefully.

"Oh, I'm skilled in medicine. This shouldn't take more then an hour. You can come back and pick it up then."

"Thank you." he spoke and left without another word.

"Want to go get a drink while we wait?" Farkas spoke gesturing over to the Bannered mare, not even ten feet away.

"Aye. Okay." Vilkas didn't really have anything better to do anymore.

They settled down inside the bannered mare in their usual spot. They didn't drink here a hell of a lot because the mead in Jorrvaskr was much better, but they did have a place to sit that always seemed vacant when they arrive. It was the same place that they had sat before learning that had befell Skjor.

Yes, he missed Skjor in his own way and what happened to him should never happen to anybody. Skjor was a friend…and family. His loss had affected everyone more then he would have thought. Being in this line of work and watching so many people die, you'd think you'd be immune to it. He just hoped Skjor was happy at the hunting grounds…

He must have shivered because Farkas looked on with a slightly concerned smile. "Are you alright?"

"Aye…just…thinking."

"About Vincent?" He teased.

Vilkas shot him a weak glare. "No."

"About what then?"

"Skjor."

Farkas' smile faded "Oh."

A long silence drifted between the two as the raucous sounds of the bard and a few drunk patrons filled the silence for them. Saadia walked over and placed their drinks in front of them in a hurry, looking more paranoid then usual. Then took off out of sight, somewhere upstairs.

Farkas let out a deep sigh, signaling the end of his silence. "Brother…I'm sure Skjor is happy where he is. He said as much…"

"I know. I just…" Vilkas shook his head. "No… I guess it doesn't matter anymore. He's gone."

"Of course it matters." Farkas tried to put on a kind smile. "It bothers you, so it matters."

"There's nothing that can be done for him now. He…" Vilkas cut himself off. "Perhaps I am worrying for nothing."

Farkas nodded. "I can't say it was the way he could have choose to go, but we both know he wanted to go there instead."

"Aye…"

"So cheer up, brother." Farkas lifted his mug. "Vincent will be home soon."

The brothers shared a drink and spoke for awhile before the hour was up and they decided to part ways. Farkas headed back to Jorrvaskr, while Vilkas decided to check in on the progress of the medicine. He walked in, only to find the woman holding a single red vial in her hands, slightly marveling at it.

"Excuse me…"

She looked up to see him and blinked as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh. Hello."

"Is the medicine ready? It's been an hour."

"I haven't even started yet…"

"…what…?" Vilkas tried not to sound annoyed.

"I've been trying to figure out exactly what is in this." She marveled. "I am a master alchemist, young man and in all my years I've never seen anything like this. It isn't anything like ever encountered on any market...by all rights this shouldn't even exist!"

Vilkas came a bit closer to her. "What are you talking about?"

"This has an amalgamation of ingredients that shouldn't make a potion. The potion should fail and make nothing! I've found Nightshade, death bell, Nirnroot, mountain flowers, vampire dust, and more ingredients that shouldn't make anything. An expert Alchemist must have made this."

"Well…he eluded to being a good alchemist. I didn't think expert but…well that's a good thing right?"

"Yes. Alchemists are in short supply."

"So how long will it take you to make this medicine? The one who drinks it will be back soon and they will need to take it when they get back."

The old imperial woman's face suddenly went pale. "What? M-Medicine?"

Vilkas didn't like her tone. "Excuse me?"

"Someone is drinking this?!" she practically shrieked.

"A-aye…"

"Sir, this is no medicine." She thrust the bottle into his hands, her own shaking. "Get the drinker of this medical attention immediately!"

"What are you talking about old woman?! Make sense!" Vilkas didn't like how she looked up at him.

"This is no medicine." she repeated, her lips and whole body shaking. "T-this…is…"

\------  
He stood in the doorway to Farkas' room and saw his brother sitting their innocently. His hand clutched so tightly around the vial that he might break it. His whole face was in a fury and Farkas instantly noticed. His brother stood in an instant, his eyes wide like a scared puppy.

"Vilkas?"

"Care to explain something to me, brother…?" He spat the words like pure venom and it make Farkas take a step back.

"W-what?"

He held up the vial. "You knew Vincent was taking this?!"

"Well…yes. So did you." He was obviously unsure where his brother's anger was coming from.

"No." Vilkas growled. "You knew what his sickness was…you KNOW what it is…and you've let him continue drinking this!"

"Brother I don't under-"

"IT'S GOD DAMNED POISON!"

He saw the confusion in Farkas' face. "It's…what?!"

"He's been drinking poison!"

"T-that's…." Farkas seemed to struggle for an explanation and it just made Vilkas angrier. "…impossible."

"That old woman told me what's in this! She said a potion like this shouldn't even exist!"

"If its poison, how is he not dead!?" Farkas countered. "He said he's been taking it for a long time. Wouldn't he be dead by now?"

That gave Vilkas pause. "I don't know…" he was still angry and shook slightly from it but his rage was slowly dying and being replaced with a deep rooted sorrow…if he fell in he may never be able to climb out…

"Brother…" Farkas was careful in his approach. "You need to relax…"

"Relax?!" Vilkas scowled deeply. "RELAX?!"

"Vilkas…."

"I JUST FOUND OUT THAT THE MAN I LOVE IS POISONING HIMSELF, AND YOU TELL ME TO RELAX?!"

Vilkas was sure that him proclamation for loving Vincent would have thrilled Farkas at any time other then now. Right now, Farkas looked like a dear caught in the sights of a hunter. It was obvious by his face that he didn't know what to say to make this right or anything to make Vilkas feel better about the situation. He was sure his yelling must have attracted some attention from the occupants upstairs, but everyone was wisely staying away.

Vilkas finally broke eye contact with Farkas and slumped against the doorframe. He let out a shaky sigh and twirled the vial between his hands. He wanted to smash it but he knew deep down that it wasn't his place to do so. He needed answers….and this time there would be no excuses. He didn't care if Vincent didn't want to talk about it right now and he wouldn't put up with anymore lies.

When Vincent got back, he was going to make him spill his guts about everything. He needed to hear it all because his heart couldn't take any more surprises. Vincent had said that he loved him…Vilkas guessed he'd see if that held any merit of truth.

"Brother…"

He looked over at Farkas weakly and saw his brother still standing in the same position. The only time he'd seen Farkas look so miserable, was right after Jergen died. The big man looked like he'd cry at any moment.

"I didn't mean to yell at you." Vilkas sighed. "I'm just….frustrated."

Farkas nodded and his misery seemed to lessen. "It's okay. I understand."

"Farkas, I-"

A huge bang from upstairs stopped them both. Vilkas got to his feet and stashed the vial away inside his pocket as Tilma came rushing down the stairs in a panic. Vilkas had never seen the old woman run so fast.

"Tilma…What's…?"

"You two need to get upstairs and help Kodlak!" She yelled, pointing up. "We're being attacked!"

A loud resounding roar filled the area and made Vilkas' blood run cold. "Stay here Tilma! Hide until one of us come and get you!"

Tilma nodded and ran into Farkas' room to find a place to hide. The Brothers then dashed toward the stairs, swords at the ready.

"The silver hand?" Farkas asked as Vilkas flung open the door.

"I don't know." he responded back quickly and ran up those stairs faster then he'd ever had in his whole life. When they got to the top, Vilkas almost couldn't believe his eyes.

The mounted pieces of Ysgramor's blade were gone but not all the culprits had fled yet. The Silver Hand by the look of them. What instantly caught his eyes, was the giant werewolf in the middle of the room, engaged with someone who was _'not'_ the silver hand.

It was Daric Theodistair. He seemed to _'float'_ out of the way of the werewolf's attacks and had no weapon raised himself. At first, Vilkas thought the werewolf was Aela, but he quickly spotted her toward the back, engaging two silver hand members. That left only Kodlak…and if it was him…he must be desperate…

Vilkas tried to push his way there but a large orc silver hand and Nord blocked his path. He instantly swung at the orc and crossed blades with him. He trusted his brother to engage the Nord and found his faith, not misplaced. The orc grunted and growled, obviously surprised by the amount of strength Vilkas had. This orc relied on strength and strength alone. Vilkas would use that to his advantage.

He jumped back suddenly, and surprised the orc. He saw the giant man growl and charge at him, as Vilkas knew he would, with an overhead swing power attack. Perfect. He sidestepped as the blade came down and hit the floor, instead of hitting flesh, as its wielded had intended. The orc had put all of his body weight into the attack and left himself exposed. Vilkas wasn't even sure if the Orc had time to realize his folly as Vilkas' blade came crashing down atop his exposed neck and snuffed out his life in an instant.

As his opponent fell, Vilkas' hair suddenly stood on end as he felt that familiar tingle of magic being cast. He looked up just in time to see that worm of a man, wave his hands in a strange motion before blasting Kodlak in the face with something…red. Vilkas couldn't describe what the hell it was because he'd never seen magic like it…all he knew is that it was defiantly bad.

Kodlak roared in pain and Vilkas started to sprint toward the fight. Two silver hand stood in his way and raised their blades against him.

"This has been fun." Daric spoke in that weasely voice of his and moved his hands in a similar motion. A large, sharp shard appeared in his hands but it was red and just oozed bad intent. "I'll give you one last chance."

Kodlak roared in defiance as Vilkas knew he would. Farkas came from his side and got one of the Silver hand blocking his path.

Daric sighed. "Very well…I'll try not to enjoy this…but no promises." He let the spike fly free, where it embedded itself deep into Kodlak's chest.

Vilkas heard himself screaming as he watched Kodlak morph back into a man and fall limply at the Mage's feet. His blade cleaved through the silver hand blocking his path in one fluid motion, though he couldn't remember even swinging it. He was on Daric in a heart beat and he could see the surprise on that little rat's face.

He swung his blade without hesitance and could smell the fresh blood as it made contact. Daric screamed as his right hand severed from his body and he fell back. He was lucky…Vilkas had been aiming for his face. The mage clutched what was left of his arm and practically hissed wordlessly at Vilkas. Before Vilkas could advance, the mage leapt out of a near by window. He heard Tovar and Athis shout in surprise from outside and Vilkas rushed to the window.

Torvar had just finished dealing with a silver hand member and hadn't caught Daric as he ran by. He watched the worm run and cast invisibility. He soon vanished from sight. There were no silver hand left alive in the yard or inside Jorrvaskr.

Ria came over from the side, covered in blood from her own battle. "What just happened?"

Vilkas at least noted that all the whelps had been outside during Kodlak's transformation…his secret was safe for now…

Oh Gods…Kodlak.

Vilkas bolted away from the window without answering her and went to the old man's side. Because of this, he missed Torvar's head turn in the direction of…someone.

Vilkas sheathed his blade and knelt beside the old man he'd come to admire. Vilkas put a hand on Kodlak's bare chest and felt no breath of life stir in him. He wanted to scream, to cry, to lament over him but he settled for gritting his teeth. He was a warrior…and warriors didn't cry. Aela and Farkas came over and also knelt beside the old harbinger. The red spike had magically vanished from the old man, leaving no mark of his demise. Vilkas looked off to the side where the hand of the perpetrator had fallen. All that lie there now was a pile of ash.

Ria came in and gasped. She slammed the door behind her and rushed to the harbinger's side. She openly wept for him and the three other occupants seemed grateful for it. They had to be the strong ones now… Vilkas took a deep sigh and closed the old man's open eyes. Magic had stolen another loved one from him.

He just managed to get to his feet, as the door opened hurriedly behind him. Vilkas already knew who it was, he'd smelt that sweet fire scent as the door had opened. He turned on him quickly, blocking the body of Kodlak from sight and faced Vincent.

"Vilkas!" Vincent spoke, out of breath. He looked like he'd been running to get here. "What's happening?! Torvar told me we'd been attack-"

"Where have you been!?" Vilkas couldn't keep the hostility from his voice and he saw Vincent's copper eyes widen slightly. He took this moment to take in the mage's form. His eyes seemed a bit darker then normal and his skin was slightly paler. He was dressed in his normal garb but in his hand was a huge sack, with a dark brownish stain on the bottom of it. It seemed heavy and cumbersome.

"I've been doing the Harbinger's biding." Vincent countered with a scowl.

"Oh yeah?" Vilkas snarled at the smaller man. "Well that means you weren't here to protect him!" The words were cruel and Vilkas knew it as he stepped aside and gave the mage a full look at the body.

Sudden horror filled Vincent's face and he dropped the sack by the doorway. He covered his mouth and knelt near the body. Vilkas could hear muffled _'no's'_ coming from Vincent's mouth as his pretty eyes welled up with tears. Part of him wanted to hold his mate and whisper soothing words of comfort to him but that was not an option. Not now.

"Get up." Vilkas grabbed hold of Vincent's arm and dragged the red head to his feet. Vincent sobbed quietly and Vilkas felt his anger begin to leave him. He desperately wanted that anger to stay. He needed something…anything to be angry at.

"Oh, Vilkas!" Vincent tried to hug him and Vilkas practically recoiled. He saw the deep hurt flash in his mate's eyes but he forced himself not to give in. Vincent had a lot of things to answer for and by the end of it…Vilkas wasn't sure this could continue.

"You're coming with me." He spoke sternly. "Thanks to the plans that you and Aela stole, we know where the Silver hand is. We are going to go there…" He growled and grabbed the mage harshly by the wrist. "…and we are going to kill every single one of those bastards." Vilkas looked at Ria. "Go get Tilma from downstairs. She's in Farkas' room. We'll be back in a day or two."

"Be careful, brother." Farkas spoke for the first time since this all transpired.

"I will." He pulled Vincent out the door after him, his grip on the mage's wrist tight as he stormed out of Whiterun and to ward his destination.

"Vilkas!"

Vilkas ignored the mage and kept walking, practically dragging the hapless redhead behind him.

"Vilkas, please!"

The begging almost did him in, but he kept going.

"Vilkas!" A cough punctuated his cry. "You're hurting me!"

Vilkas finally stopped. They halted on the bridge, just outside Whiterun and he let go of the mage's wrist and turned. He saw Vincent coughing and rubbing his wrist in pain. He would have given anything to feel nothing for Vincent at that moment but he knew that wasn't happening. Vincent had wormed his way into Vilkas' icy heart and started to melt it.

"Vilkas…" the redhead gasped in between coughing fits. "We need to go back…I need…-"

"This?" Vilkas spoke, reaching into his pocket and producing the vial.

He saw Vincent's eyes widen again and he nodded. "Y-yes."

Vilkas thrust it into his hands with a mild disgust and watched his mate drink it down. His heart and gut twisted at the sight now that he knew what was in it. The coughing had stopped however and Vincent looked…healthier.

"Why did you have it?" Vincent spoke, rubbing his eyes from the fresh tears that had gathered.

"I thought I was doing you a favor." Vilkas growled. "I went to make copies of it for you at the apothecary so you wouldn't have to make it yourself when you got back. Care to tell me how in gods name are you still alive when your drinking poison?!"

He saw Vincent flinch and the mage stashed the empty vial away inside his coat. "Vilkas…is it really impo-"

"DON'T YOU DARE ASK THAT." Vincent clammed up instantly and Vilkas took a deep breath to try and calm himself. He resumed walking toward dawn star and felt slightly relived when the mage followed. "You are going to tell me everything."

"E-Everything?"

"Aye."

"Now?"

"Aye."

"Vilkas…It's a long story…"

"We have time. We're going to driftshade Refuge near Dawn star. It's going to be a long walk so we have plenty of time."

"Vilkas…Please… I-I don't think…"

Vilkas suddenly stopped and turned on the mage. Vincent was wringing his gloved hands together, obviously nervous. He looked guilty…as he should, also devastated. Vilkas took a deep breath and stepped close enough to the mage that they were sharing the same air. He felt Vincent tense slightly but he paid it no heed.

"Do you love me?" The words felt awkward on his own tongue but they needed to be said.

Vincent looked up at him and let out a shaky breath. "Yes." A tear fell down Vincent's cheek and Vilkas found himself brushing it away.

"Then tell me everything…no more lies… no more excuses. If you say you love me, then trust me." He linked his fingers with Vincent's gloved ones and gently pulled him along the trail.

"It's not a pretty story…" Vincent sighed.

"I want to know it all. Pretty or not."

Vincent nodded grimly and gave Vilkas' fingers a squeeze. Vilkas returned the gesture and it seemed to cause the mage enough comfort to begin his tale.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's a long story, like I said…So I'm going to skip the beginning. …Don't give me that look, Vilkas. What I told you in the beginning was truth. I'm going to pick it up around my sixteenth birthday. That's when things of relevance started to happen. It was when I'd first laid eyes on the man who would come to destroy my whole world…."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vincent's backstory part 1  
> Warnings: Murder, character death, mentions on non-con, abuse and some violent images.

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"It's a long story, like I said…So I'm going to skip the beginning. …Don't give me that look, Vilkas. What I told you in the beginning was truth. I'm going to pick it up around my sixteenth birthday. That's when things of relevance started to happen. It was when I'd first laid eyes on the man who would come to destroy my whole world…."  
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His beautiful sea blue eyes, that matched the hue of his late mother, glanced up in time to get a face full of snow flakes. He sputtered and shook his head to clear it from the white powder. He heard a low husky laugh and he turned to see his best friend chuckling softly. He dusted his hands off on his coat, trying to play innocent.

"It's not funny, Frey!"

Frey flashed his white teeth and a handsome smile came to his face. His black hair was short and cropped in a fashionable rebellious style and his deep green eyes sparkled in amusement. He was a Nord; whose parents had moved them to High Rock right after the treaty was signed with the Aldemeri dominion.

"Sure it is." he shrugged and hefted a heavy brown bag filled with food up. "Sorry Vincent." The tone of his voice showed he really wasn't sorry.

"So throwing snow in my face is a Nord way of amusement?"

"Affection, my friend. We don't just throw snow at anyone."

Vincent just scowled at him and dragged along a matching paper bag. "Remind me why I brought you again?"

"Because…You wanted my pleasurable company?"

Vincent chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, sure, that's it."

"Maybe because I'm so handsome?"

"Nope. Defiantly not that."

"Hmmm….well, possibly because I can lug the heavy stuff?"

"That sounds about right."

Frey walked ahead slightly and elbowed open the back door to the orphanage. They both walked into the small kitchen and began unpacking the goods.

"Where is Grace?" Frey asked as he put some of the fruit away. "She's usually here, waiting for us to come back."

"She's been working on a project." Vincent responded, unpacking as well. "Some kind of knitting and sewing thing. She won't tell me."

Frey laughed. "Ah. Well, my heart is broken. I don't get to see my beloved."

"Hey…watch it with that…"

Frey half-smiled. "Oh come on…I'm upset I don't get to see my future wife."

Vincent flicked him on the nose and scowled. "Like I'd ever let some one like you have my baby sister."

Frey rubbed his nose, looking mock offended. "Someone like me…? What's that mean?"

"You have a different girl on your arm every other week."

Frey grinned that handsome grin and it made Vincent roll his eyes. "I can't help it if the Breton girls like a little foreign taste."

Vincent made a gag noise. "I'm not letting a playboy have my precious sister. Fuck that."

Frey didn't seem to mind the comment and kept his smile. "I'd quit my womanizing ways for her."

"Bullshit you would." he huffed. "You go through women without a care. I seriously think you're gay."

Frey whined. "That's so mean…"

"I think you are."

"That's cold, man."

"I don't hear you denying it."

Frey stuck out his tongue. "You're just upset because you want me."

"About as much as I want severe head trauma."

They shared a laugh and finished the unpacking. They'd met when Vincent's mother had been alive and been friends ever since. Ever after Vincent and Grace had to go to the orphanage, Frey and his family had offered their support. They had wanted to take the two of them in but didn't have tons of money either. They already had three kids. An older sister, an older brother and Frey. They couldn't afford to take Vincent and a terminally ill child in too.

Frey put his coat back on once they finished and headed for the doorway. "Seriously, though Vincent…" He began and leaned against the doorframe. Vincent could already tell this wasn't going anywhere pleasant. "You should come out with me soon. There are tons of pretty girls that would like you."

"The only woman I can have in my life right now is my sister." He crossed his arms. "I have no time for anyone else."

"You're always either working or looking after her." Frey protested softly. "Other people can keep an eye on her for one night you know."

"I will not lead anyone on. Any person to take any interest in me will find themselves second place. Grace will always be first."

Frey looked like he wanted to push the issue but he held up his hands defensively. "Okay. Fair enough."

"Thank you for the help, Frey. I appreciate it."

"No problem…" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed slightly. "Just….think about what I said?"

Vincent really didn't know what there was to think about, but he simply nodded, if only to appease Frey. "Sure."

"Great. Now I need to get home…Kahilda might be leaving us."

"Your sister? Why?"

"She wants to go home to Skyrim."

"Is this about the ban on Talos Worship?"

Frey sighed and lifted up the chain of his amulet. "You know the importance to my family about this. I was only four when we left…right after that damn treaty was signed. Pa's too proud to admit we fled instead of submit…Not Kahilda though. She was old enough to remember the old ways and she wants to go back home."

"Will you all be going with her?"

"No. Ma's dead set on staying here and she's talked Pa and my bro convinced too."

"What about you?"

"I'm sixteen." Frey chuckled. "I hold Talos in my own way and maybe someday I'll go back too and join my sister in this…but not now."

"Good. I wouldn't want Grace to be sad."

"Ah yeah…. Can't make my little love despair, can we?"

"Alright. Get out, you turkey." Vincent shoved the taller boy out the door. "It's damn cold and you're letting all the cold air in."

Frey winked and waved before taking off down the snow filled streets. Vincent watched his friend go with a soft worried look. Frey was a good guy and he really wished the best for him and his family.

"Brother…"

Vincent's eyes widened and he shut the door in a hurry, cutting off the cold flow of air. He whirled about to find his sister standing near by. She had their father's features and look. Her hair was long and dark and matched her eyes. It was near impossible to tell they were even related. She was small of an eleven year old but she was also a sickly child. All she wore was a long dress and Vincent nearly had a heart attack when he saw her bare foot.

"What are you doing standing here with no shoes on?" He scolded and walked over. "It's freezing and you'll get sick."

"I'm fine." she protested. "I heard Frey's voice so I came to see him."

"I already kicked his playboy butt out the door." Vincent let a smile come to his lips. "Sorry."

She shrugged. "I only like being around because he says he'll marry me someday." She let a small smile cross her face. "It makes you mad."

"Of course it does." Vincent gestured her out of the kitchen and into the living room. It was just a small receiving area for guests, but the floor was carpeted and it had a heater. He set his sister up in front of it. "I need a special man to be worthy enough to marry you." He knelt in front of her and put his warm hands on her feet and was relived to find them warm.

She put a hand on his shoulder. It was so gentle, he almost didn't feel it. "You don't like it because you don't want him to lie to me."

Vincent met her eyes with a soft supporting smile. "Lie to you? If you mean because of age difference-"

"You don't need to lie, brother. Frey teases me because I'm your little sister and being told I'm pretty makes me happy. A guy like Frey would have no real interest in someone like me."

"That's not true Grace…" Vincent was lying though and he looked down. He knew Frey's flirting with his sister was harmless. Frey saw Grace like she was his own sister, so Vincent was never cross with him. If he'd actually been an aspiring suitor, they would have a problem…

"I know it is Brother. We both know I probably won't live long enough to have a husband."

His eyes shot up and he grasped his sister tightly. "Don't say such a horrible thing, Grace."

"Its true." she smiled kindly…almost like a mother. "We both know it."

"You're going to be okay." Vincent trembled slightly. "I promised mother that I would look after you! I promised her on her grave."

"You do look after me, brother…" She took his hands in her much smaller ones. "But who will look after you?"

"I don't need anyone but you." It was the truth at the time. "I don't need some woman harping on me about spending too much time taking care of my sister and not enough with her."

"I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not."

"….If you say so, brother."

"I do."

There was a moment of silence as he watched his sister take in the information. The last thing he wanted her to feel like was a burden. She meant everything to him.

"I have something for you then." She spoke, finally.

"Oh?"

She let go of his hands and walked over to the chair and pulled out a very strange Pastel colored object. It took Vincent a moment to realize that it was a coat.

"here." she held it out.

"Oh Grace…" He didn't take it right away and took in the sight. "I thought you'd make yourself a blanket for the winter or something…" It was more sewn then knitted. It was a mix of blues, purples and creamy pastel colored cotton and leathers. It would have made a good winter blanket.

"No. It's a coat for you."

"I don't really need a coat." he protested. He kind of hoped she'd turn it into a blanket for herself. "I get warm enough working on the farm."

She held it out stubbornly. "I made it for you. So you better wear it."

She had a steely determined look and Vincent knew it was impossible to talk her out of this. So he just smiled and accepted the gift. He slung it on for her and watched her face light up. That moment made it all worth it.

"How's it sit?" He asked her.

"Good." she nodded, reaching out and smoothing out some of the fabric near his shoulder. "I like it."

"I'm glad then. Now…" he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. She laughed and threw her little arms around his neck. She felt like a delicate porcine doll in his grasp. He lifted her up easily as if she weighed nothing at all. "…lets get you some shoes on, okay?"

"I don't like the shoes." She grumbled. "They're itchy and I like to feel the ground under my feet."

"It's cold Grace." he scolded and started walking up the stairs with her still nestled in his arms. "You can call me a worry wart or whatever else it is you want but I need you to put on your shoes."

"Fine."

He walked into the bedroom for all the kids and he set her down on their bed. They were all packed in to the one room and there weren't enough beds for everyone. Vincent willingly shared with Grace, but he was up most nights. He pulled a small box out from under their bed and took her shoes out. He'd spent a good deal of his money from work on buying her good shoes. He put them on for her as if she was only an infant and tied the laces too.

"There. Better."

She nodded and kicked her feet a bit idly once Vincent stood upright. She kept her eyes on her brother, in an almost accusing way as she looked him up and down.

"Problem?" Vincent asked.

"You look more like Momma every time I see you."

Vincent forced a smile. "Ah…I see."

"You're pretty…like her."

"I'm a man, Grace." He sighed. "Men aren't pretty."

"You are." She insisted. "We don't look anything alike…"

"You're very pretty Grace. Who gave you the idea that you weren't?"

"The other kids." She shrugged as if it didn't bother her.

"Well, the other kids can shove it. The Renalts don't give a fig for what anyone says, right?"

"Right."

Vincent looked up in time to see the mistress of the orphanage gesturing over to him. Her name was Madam Genevieve, and she was an old haggard woman. She'd never married and never had any children. She was a kind woman, who did love children so she opened up an orphanage and ran it half her life. She was also not a very rich woman so getting funding for the orphanage itself was a struggle.

Vincent told Grace he'd be right back and wandered over to the Madam. He could tell as he got closer that she looked slightly distraught.

"Madam?"

"You've done such wonderful things for this orphanage, Vincent. I have no idea how to even begin to pay you back for everything."

"I told you before, Madam… You don't need to pay me back. I live here. You taught me everything I know about Alchemy and it's helped Grace beyond measure. You owe me nothing."

She wrung her hands together and looked stubbornly at the floor. "There…" she paused and started again. "There is a man here…He wishes to see you….for adoption purposes."

"A man? He wants to adopt a Sixteen year old boy? Wouldn't he be better off with a younger child?"

"He's been scoping out the orphanage for days now, secretly. He's chosen to meet with you."

That sounded way too shady for Vincent's liking. "No thanks."

"He insists, Vincent."

"I'm not being adopted." He spoke firmly. "I'd never leave Grace alone."

"Please Vincent…Just….listen to him?"

He sighed and glanced back at Grace in the room. "Wish me to tell him no to his face then? Fine."

"I'll keep an eye on Grace, Dearie. You go meet with him. He's in my office."

Vincent nodded and walked past her to her humble office. It was a small space that could barely fit three people comfortably. When he opened the door, a man sat in the chair closest to her makeshift desk. He turned as Vincent entered and he got a good look at the man.

He was tall…Vincent would tell that even though he was sitting down. His dark hair was slicked back and he had a huge nose that just screamed Noble scumbag. His eyes were dark…very dark and his mouth was pulled into a long thin smile. Vincent instantly had a large feeling of uneasiness from this man but he pushed it aside for now.

"Vincent Renalt..?" The man spoke and startled the redhead. His voice was deep but not entirely displeasing.

"Yes?"

The man stood up and Vincent was most defiantly correct about his height. He stood at least two heads taller then Vincent. He was wearing nice fancy clothes that looked like they had never seen the light of day, let alone a speck of dirt.

"I am Cadrian Belemonde." He stuck out his hand surprisingly for a handshake.

Vincent felt off doing it but he shook his hand. He almost felt a surge…sort of like that tingling feeling you got when Magic was being cast around you. Vincent decided he disliked the feeling and quickly ripped his hand from Cadiran's grasp.

"Nice to meet you…" he still attempted politely.

Cadrian did not seemed deterred and if anything his smile had gotten bigger. "You are perfect."

Vincent stared mutely at the stranger for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"I am gathering up promising young men with magical talent to train and become my apprentice."

"You're a wizard then?" Not that was too uncommon in High Rock. "I've never cast magic in my life, sir."

"Ah yes, but you have an affinity for it. I felt that at the slightest touch. You could do very well with magic. You'd be a perfect candidate."

"I hate to disappoint you…." Vincent began, crossing his arms. "But I'm not leaving."

"Well, why not boy? You certainly don't want to live here do you? I live in a castle! Your every whim would be tended to!" The smile stayed…and that made Vincent nervous.

"I'm sorry, but I have obligations here. I have a sick sister who I love more then anything. No fancy comforts or anyone would ever make me abandon her. So, I'm sorry. Please find someone else."

The smile faded and Vincent found the frown more unnerving then the smile…. "A...sister. I see." He looked in deep thought for a moment. "What is she sick with?"

"We could never afford doctors… We know our father had it too…it's something you're born with. Like an infection that never goes away."

"Ah...I see. Well tell me, my boy… You can't possibly have all the medical attention your sister needs here, correct?"

"…We…get by…"

"Well, here's the deal then." The man named Cadrian smiled again and put a heavy hand on Vincent shoulder. Something about this man made Vincent almost want to recoil but he stayed put. "If you come with me, I will let you bring your sister. My home has a staff of experienced people and personal doctors. Your sister would receive the best care possible there and improved living conditions."

That…was a tempting offer. Vincent was always afraid he'd wake up and find his sister lying dead beside him. These living conditions were horrific and not fit for a sick person. "I… I don't know…."

"I'll need an answer lad. I really don't want to have to look elsewhere when I have such a promising young man in front of me now. Think about what would be best for your sister…"

As much as his brain screamed at him to say no, he couldn't argue with the facts. His sister would have a much better chance of survival if she had better care. Maybe… he'd be able to keep his promise to mother after all.

"Okay. I'll go with you."  
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"That was the worst mistake of my life….One that would come back to haunt me every time I think about my poor, beloved sister. I should have ran…should have said no. I sometimes wonder now…if Cadrian would have simply abducted me if I'd persisted in staying. I was important to him…although I didn't know it at the time."  
\----

The castle had been impressive. From the outside, it seemed more like a fortress then a home. Grace had been excited to leave the orphanage and when she saw the castle, her eyes had lit up. That made the decision almost worth it.

"Are we really going to live here?" He remembers her whispering to him.

He had nodded, having no idea what he'd really gotten both of them into. The minute they entered the door, Cadrian wrapped a heavy arm around Vincent's shoulders and lured him away from the cart. An elderly woman bowed and slipped past them to attend it.

"What about my-"

"Your sister will be fine." Cadrian said politely. "That is my healer, Mrs. Changine. She is a master in alchemy and the healing art. She will attend your sister. For now, I wish you to meet the other boys."

Vincent was shuffled into a room filled with at least thirteen other young men. Cadrian had left him alone in there, claiming he'd be back in a few moments and that Vincent should _'get acquainted'._

An orange haired boy whose face was marred in freckles and pox scars, practically rushed over to Vincent the moment he was left alone.

"Hello, chum. I'm Beran!"

"Vincent." He replied calmly. "What's going on here?"

"Ah, well the master has been gathering up orphans to be his apprentice. Think about it…it's like…the once in a lifetime chance!"

"What will happen to the other boys that fail?"

Beran, who had been sunny and cheerful up to that point suddenly frowned. "I… hadn't thought of that."

"Hum…"

"Probably cast back out…" The orange haired boy seemed suddenly sad. "I defiantly don't want to go back to that horrid orphanage in Comlorn."

Vincent found himself nodding in agreement. Not that he hated the orphanage, but Grace needed this care… He decided then, that he had to win…

"Whoop. Looks like they're picking on that kid again."

Vincent turned his head and saw three boys picking on a smaller one. The smaller boy had long black hair that was tied back with a crimson ribbon and he was trying to read a book. He was also better dressed then anyone here. The boys picking on him were pulling a lock of his hair and slapping the book from his hands. The boy had calmly picked it back up, but had a scowl on his face.

"They pick on him often?"

"Yeah. I don't know his name…" Beran confessed. "I didn't want to be seen talking with him, and getting picked on myself."

That made Vincent frown. "Why is he even getting picked on?"

"From what I gather, he's not an orphan. He came from a noble family and everything. Everyone else here are orphans, used to living at the bottom. He's used to living well and has apparently cast magic before. He's got an advantage over all of us. Makes the other boys cross at him."

"He can't help the station he was born into."

"Yes, I know…but…"

"But what?"

Beran sighed and wrung his hands together. "The other boys thinks he doesn't deserve it. That it's not fair."

"This is the first time I've seen a kid getting picked on for not being an orphan."

"Well, being a noble born in a room filled with orphans will do that."

"Still doesn't make it right." Vincent spoke and started heading over there. He heard Beran protest behind him but he paid it no heed. When he got close enough, he grabbed the boy's wrist that had been pulling on the smaller boy's hair. "Leave him alone."

"Oi! Who ars you?" The boy hissed through the hole in his teeth. "This anit none of yer business, sod. Back off."

Vincent saw the dark haired boy peer up at his with wary grey eyes. The other orphans had now turned on him and stopped harassing the smaller kid.

"Look it here…" Sneered the one to Vincent's right. "He's defendin' his little boyfriend."

That caused the three of them to chuckle. Out of the corner of his eye, Vincent saw Beran tense but he ignored the boy's discomfort.

"He don't look like a rich plug like this one…" The one to Vincent's left proclaimed.

"He obviously anit. He's like us.." The one who Vincent had grabbed spoke up. "Why ya defendin' this rich sod…?"

"He can't help what life he was born into."

"So what?! You defendin him coz of that?! You daft?"

"I can assure you I'm not." Vincent scowled. His body was tensed up, ready to react if any of threw a punch his way.

They surprisingly seemed to keep their cool about the situation. "Neither you are worth it." The leader of the bunch scoffed. "But watch yer backs now."

The three of them retreated and Vincent watched them go. What the bloody fuck had that been about?

"You didn't have to do that…"

Vincent turned his head back to the grey eyed boy who was now standing next to Vincent and scowling deeply. He was a bit short but Vincent figured he still had a growth spurt left to go.

"It wasn't right just to watch them pick on you. They probably would have hurt you soon."

The boy chuckled humorlessly. "No. They wouldn't have. Lord Belemonde has forbidden us from fighting. Those who do, instantly fail. You weren't here when he said that." the boy paused. "It had been two months since anyone new came to the fold, even though we have plenty of candidates."

"Hope I'm worth the trouble." Vincent replied with a raised eyebrow.

"As do I." The boy replied without missing a beat. "Daric Theodistair."

"I'm Vincent Renalt."

"A last name…" The boy mused. "You weren't born an orphan like the rest of them."

"No. I wasn't." he confirmed.

A small smile came to Daric's face. "At least I'm not alone in that."

Vincent felt himself smile too. He seemed nice enough. Cadrian reentered and called for the boys to gather up. Daric rushed over and Vincent followed him in tow. Cadrian had brought with him a golden birdcage with a cloth draped over it to hide it's contents. Even at this distance, Vincent could tell that the cloth was not ordinary, and in fact looked thick like lead.

"Welcome to my home, boys. Most of you had been here longer then others but I finally found what I needed and we are ready to start the training. I will not lie to you…These will be tough and grueling days. To become an arch mage takes practice, patience, complete control of will and the force of your entire souls. Now…if I could have a volunteer?"

"Oi. Me sir!" Said the leader of the boys who had been picking on Daric. "I'm yer man."

"Good lad. Come here."

The boy did as asked and stood in front of Cadrian. Cadrian towered over the boy with a deep seated grin that made Vincent uncomfortable. Something wasn't right here….

"Alright lad…if you would please demonstrate an ice spike spell…"

The lad looked between Cadrian and the rest of the group. "You haven't taught us that spell yet…"

Cadrian kept his grin and from behind his back, pulled out a book, already open to a page inside. "Read and cast. Do it now."

The boy seemed frazzled and quickly scanned the words on the page. His hands moved frantically, trying to recreate what the spell was telling him. Vincent felt that familiar surge of magic make his hair stand on end as a small crystal formed in the boy's hands. He seemed like he was trying to make it bigger, but struggled and the spell dropped. The crystal broke and fell to the floor, instantly melting and getting on Cadrian's fine shoes.

Cadrian shut the book with a loud snap, his smile still present although now it had an eerie curve to it. "Ah. Well, you are useless as an apprentice."

The boy tensed. "I-I'm sorry… I jus never…"

"No." Cadrian tutted and guided the boy over to the cage. "Lets see if you are not completely hopeless." He lifted the thick sheet only slightly and even at this distance, Vincent could feel scorching heat. Flames licked at the walls of the cage and spread through the bars like fingers. Vincent helplessly watched as the fire danced around the scared boy before catching him alight.

With a horrid, blood curdling scream, the boy was engulfed in flames, his small life extinguished in an instant. Vincent heard other boys scream and back away from the smoldering mass that was once a person. Vincent felt a sudden iron grip on his wrist and saw that Daric had taken it and now squeezed in fear. His grey eyes were locked on the sight and his face was devoid of expression.

Cadrian tsked. "Such a shame… oh well." He turned back on the still burning mass and faced the rest of them. "This is the beginning. Your training will begin at dawn. We will begin with apprentice spells and work our way up over the next few weeks. You will be sent for blunt weapon training, and eat at noon sharp…every day with no excuses."

"You can't do this!" One boy cried, both literately and figuratively.

"Oh but I can boys. Who will miss a few Orphans? I'm giving you all the chance of a lifetime…If you fail…it will be the end of yours."

Vincent had had a bad feeling about this man but he had no idea it would have gone so far this way. This man was evil. There was no other word for it…and he had willingly walked into the den of the devil. Gods, what had he done…?

"You are forbidden to leave this castle." Cadrian smiled coyly at them. "No messages, in or out. Enjoy your time here, boys. A servant of mine will show you to your quarters…." He lowered the cloth of the cage and the fire melted away from the boy's body, leaving nothing but charred remains behind. Then he left, taking the cage with him and leaving all the boys there.

Panic came quickly. Boys were screaming and asking each other what to do. Some huddled into the corners crying and screaming that they just wanted to go home. Beran, among them. Vincent felt Daric pull on his wrist and he turned his attention to the boy.

"Can he really do this? That was murder…"

"Apparently so." Vincent answered with a scowl. His mind wandered to Grace…if he would kill without a thought…Vincent's presence here may be the only thing keeping his sister alive. "What about your parents, Daric?"

"They wont come for me." Daric spoke flatly. "I'm the youngest of four boys. They have plenty of heirs and they never gave a shit about me anyway. When sir Belemonde showed up they sent me to him like a wrapped up gift. They were glad to see me gone."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Do you have anyone on the outside, Vincent?"

Vincent thought about Frey. What he wouldn't give to see Frey at that moment. He had wrote to him and told him of his adoption by this man, but not much else. Frey would not be mounting a rescue and with his own family drama, Vincent was sure Frey would barely notice. He may be sad, yes…but not enough to search for him.

"Not on the outside, no. Cadrian let me bring my sister here though. She's really sick and now I'm very worried."

Vincent suddenly tensed when he felt Daric's fingers slide down and lace with his. Daric's head rested on Vincent's shoulder and he breathed in deeply. "We'll look out for each other…" Daric concluded. "I'll watch your back and you can watch mine. We'll help each other get through the trials. You'll do that, won't you, Vincent…?"

The closeness was making Vincent slightly uneasy but he concluded that Daric was just scared. Hell, he was terrified too and an extra edge in this sordid competition would be helpful and appreciated. "Yeah. I can do that."

The servant walked in and surveyed the area. With a soft sigh, he summoned guards to help escort the boys to their chambers. There was to be no running…no fighting back…and no one did.

\------  
"My time there became a constant and living hell. We were pushed to the point of exhaustion and then shoved over that point. Cadrian was ruthless in his instruction, whipping or eventually killing the boys who failed one too many times. Grace and Daric seemed to be my guiding lights. Grace knew nothing of the happenings and I was not about to tell her and worry her.

She was looking healthier, so Cadrian was at least a man of his word. The boys who had made it so far, were gifted with new clothes and improved living conditions. Thanks to Daric, both of us excelled. Most boys fell short because they were only looking out for themselves. In time though, Daric shed his innocent boy exterior. He spoke tough, played even tougher. I was starting to see a dark side of him emerge and it troubled me."

\-----  
_Two years later…._

"Did you hear?" Daric spoke, brushing his long hair off his shoulder and settling down across Vincent at the table.

"Hear what?" The redhead asked, moving his potato back and forth on his plate, not looking up. He hadn't slept a wink last night.

"Last night." Daric clarified. "I heard screaming."

"Yes. I heard it too." Vincent glanced up at Daric and found him in a better state then himself. "Did you sleep?"

"A bit." Daric admitted. "They also found Beran in his room. He apparently hung himself."

Vincent almost choked on his own spit. "Really?"

"Guess he couldn't take it." Daric sighed and rolled his eyes. "He was always weak."

Vincent narrowed his eyes at Daric. The man he'd known and come to trust was starting to ebb away with each death. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" Daric huffed. "It's not like it's a huge secret, Vincent. He would have been fed to the flame…just like the others. We're the only two left and we are the best. He had no hope of wining."

So they were. Vincent locked eyes with Daric who seemed to have come to the same solution. There were only two of us left. Now it was every man for themselves. Daric pat Vincent on the wrist and saw him flinch as if in pain. Daric, startled, pulled his hand away quickly as if Vincent was on fire and eyed his friend warily.

"You're hurt…aren't you?" Daric sighed and reached for Vincent's wrist again. Vincent kept it out of his grasp this time.

"I'm fine."

Did the master hurt you really bad again?"

"He hurts both of us."

"You more so then I."

"Because I don't give in to his revolting desire."

Daric froze and his grey eyes widened a fraction before turning back to their narrowed and cold indifference. "It's….not so bad Vincent….once you get used to it anyway…"

"I don't care." The redhead huffed. "That man is evil. He kills people….innocent people."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just give in to him?" Daric protested. "He wouldn't hurt you so bad….maybe he'd go easier on the beatings? I don't like having to wait by your bedside after he hurts you and wait for you to wake up."

"Sorry my defiance is such a burden to you."

Daric scowled. "That's not what I meant."

"The healers fix me up just fine. They do good work with their restoration magic. I don't even have any bruises when I wake…although the ache is still there…."

"Just do what he wants, Vincent…" Daric almost pleaded. "So what if your pride gets damaged? Do it, if not for yourself, then for Grace."

Vincent huffed. He didn't like bringing his sister into this. "He hasn't threatened me with Grace's well being just yet. He pushes the issue…but not as hard as you'd think. It's easier to just smash my face against the floor and leave me then convince me."

"I'm surprised he hasn't killed you for your defiance…or raped you."

Vincent looked up into those grey eyes, which stared back at him with a mirrored expression. "Oh yeah?"

"He did…to some of the other boys."

"Did he…to you?"

Daric shook his head. "No. I still didn't want...it...but he didn't physically force me."

Vincent felt a small relief wash over him. "Good. I wouldn't want anything like that to happen to you."

Daric was eerily silent for a good minute before he cleared his throat. "After mace training today…what are you doing with your free half-hour?"

"I was going to go see Grace and Mrs. Changine in the med bay."

"Can I come with you? I've got nothing to do."

"I guess so."

Vincent dumped the rest of his lunch, finding he had no appetite at the moment and went with Daric to their blunt weapon training. They'd been doing this for two years and both felt the mace was like an extension of themselves. They'd even been given beautiful ebony maces as rewards for doing so well. When they finished their practice and made their way down to the medical wing of the castle.

Vincent had been down here increasingly often and it wasn't to see Mrs. Changine or his sister. They were in the office…when Vincent was brought in, it was always at the back where is sister couldn't see. The beatings had increased as of late and it seemed every other day Cadrian was paying him visits. Maybe he was growing impatient….

"Hello big brother." Grace chimed, sitting in her chair, knitting away.

Vincent smiled and knelt down to hug her. "Hello, kiddo. You look good today."

"Ah Vincent…" Mrs. Changine spoke walking over. Her old eyes seemed tired but widened slightly when they fell on Daric. "Daric too…? What a surprise."

"Hello." Daric spoke quietly.

Vincent pulled over a chair to sit beside his sister. "What are you knitting?"

"A scarf." she shrugged. "Maybe I'll make it match your coat."

Daric snickered. Vincent's lips twitched slightly. He kept that coat hanging up in his room and never really wore it.

"That's…cute." Daric commented and put a hand on Vincent's shoulder.

"Yeah. Real cute…" Vincent ignored the hand and turned his attention back to Grace. "You should make something for yourself, Grace. I rarely leave the castle." And by rarely, he meant not at all. Cadrian didn't allow them to roam.

"Daric?" Mrs. Changine called softly. "Will you help me get a box down off the top shelf in the back?"

"Sure. Be right back."

His hand slid from Vincent's shoulder as he followed the elderly woman to the back room. Vincent watched him go and sighed quietly. Grace giggled and caught his attention yet again.

"What?"

"He fancies you."

Vincent felt his eye twitch. "He does not."

"Yes he does." She persisted and giggled again.

"Well, it's not like that. He's just a friend. Like a brother, even."

"Not your type, brother…?"

"I don't have a type…"

She rolled her eyes. "Right. Sure you don't…"

"When have I dated anyone Grace?"

"Never, from what I've seen."

"Exactly. So how can I have a type if I've never dated anyone?"

"You liked Frey." Vincent heard himself sputter and Grace laughed. "You just like Nords then?"

"I did NOT like Frey."

"He's really handsome." she smiled wistfully. "I don't blame you brother…and I wouldn't be upset if you were gay." Vincent was literately too stunned to say a word. She continued anyway, undeterred. "If you were, I'd never have to worry about some lady taking you away from me. It would be like…having another brother! Sort of… well, I would want you to be happy, anyway. If loving men makes you happy brother, then I have no problem with it."

"G-Grace…what-"

"Frey would have been a good choice." She continued as she knit, without missing a beat. "He was very nice to me and treated me like a little sister already. He would have been able to take care of you. He was strong."

"I…I don't…"

"Brother….I watched you all the time. I could tell."

Vincent just stared at her like she had six heads before sighing deeply. "What in Oblivion do you want me to say, Grace?"

She smiled proudly. "Nothing at all, big brother."

He felt his eye twitch again. Damn kid…

"I'm back." Daric spoke coming out of the back room with . He paused and looked at the two siblings sitting so close and looked back and forth between them. "Are you ready to go? Free time is almost up."

"Yeah." Vincent leaned down and kissed Grace on the cheek. "Behave yourself."

"I always do." she cooed innocently and winked at him.

Daric strode out into the hallway and before Vincent could make to follow, Mrs. Changine grabbed him by the arm.

"Vincent…wait."

He looked back at the elderly woman and saw slight desperation in her features. "Is everything okay…?" She bit her lip…looking as if she had something very important to say. Vincent could see the conflict in here eyes as well as brief and startling fear. "Mrs. Changine?"

"N-…nothing…" She let his arm go and looked dejectedly at the floor. "Be careful Vincent." Then she turned to Grace with a big smile, as if that awkward exchange had not taken place. "Come on dear, lets go get out the heavy quilts for tonight. It's going to be cold…"

"Are you coming?" Daric called from the hallway.

Vincent edged out of the room warily and into the hallway. He had the nagging feeling that she had to tell him something extremely important bust lost her nerve at the last moment.

"You know, Vincent…You really look nothing like your sister."

The sudden statement caught Vincent off guard. "She looks like our father. I look like our mother."

"Yeah, well…there's no resemblance at all." He sighed. "Shouldn't there be at least some resemblance?"

"It just didn't work out that way…" Vincent scowled, slightly annoyed at his statement. "What are you getting at?"

Daric scoffed. "Nothing. Don't get so upset, I was just asking."

Vincent was still tense, but his shoulders slumped slightly. "Right… sorry."

"Hmm… Well, come on." Daric changed the subject. "We're to meet the master in his study."

"Is that today?" Vincent paled. He'd completely forgotten.

"Yes."

"Wonderful…" Vincent muttered as they strode up to his office door. Daric knocked, gingerly and they waited for their master to command them to enter.

Within moments an amused sounding, "enter." came from within. They opened the door and the sight made Vincent instantly recoil and vomit up the meager lunch he had earlier. He felt Daric pulling on his arm, calling his name as he clutched to the carpeted floor, unable to keep himself from dry heaving.

"Vincenttttt…" he heard Cadrian coo, and if he had any more food in his stomach it would have bubbled to the surface to join what was on the floor.

"Vincent!" Daric whispered in his ear harshly as pulled on Vincent's arms again. "Get up!"

Vincent, who had been struggling to breathe, finally managed to get to his feet again but resolutely stared down at the floor and not into Cadrian's office. He could hear his heartbeat in his own ears as the smell of fresh and putrid blood and his own sick invaded his senses. He wanted to gag again but he was determined to not hack up stomach acid. He could feel Daric's hand on his wrist, squeezing even to the point of pain. His grip was strong and Vincent felt so weak… How could he be so calm after seeing…THAT?!

Vincent suddenly felt icy cold and slightly wet fingertips harshly grab his chin and forcibly lift his head up. His blue eyes met the suddenly dark red ones that belonged to Cadrian Belemonde. Cadrian smiled and Vincent's blood ran cold at the sight of his elongated canine teeth. Vincent tried to recoil again but Cadrian's grip seemed to keep his whole body in place.

"What's wrong, my boy?" He practically purred as he leaned down to leave a long, disgusting lick up the side of Vincent's cheek. Vincent was paralyzed in fear and revolution, but it did not seem to deter the older man. "Don't you appreciate good art when you see it?"

His grip suddenly went to Vincent's throat and he pulled the redhead into the office that smelled of death. Daric's grip was gone from his arm and he struggled like a fish in the grip of a grizzly bear's jaws. He was cutting off his own air flow in his struggle but he would have rather died then be in that room.

"You know, my dear Vincent…this little struggling of yours has been very cute, but I am trying to show you something." He made Vincent stand in front of the desk and held him there until the struggling had ceased. "Relax…Just relax… Daric! Come here boy. Stand beside Vincent."

Cadrian let go of him completely and it took all of Vincent's willpower not to turn and run away. He knew if he did…it was all over. He'd be fed to that horrid flame in a birdcage…or worse…he'd be like the thing in Cadrian's office right now. He felt Daric beside him and it offered a small, barely significant comfort.

"Well…?" Cadrian asked, wiping a small amount of blood from his chin. "What do you boy's think of my latest art piece..? Vincent…dear. You're not looking at it." Cadrian mock frowned. "Look up. Do it." When Vincent didn't obey right away, Cadrian snarled. "Look. Up. Now."

Vincent did so and twitched at the sight in all it's glory. A man was hanging from the low chandelier Cadrian kept in his office. He'd been stripped naked and hung by the neck. His stomach had been cut open and his bowels were hitting the desk in a crude cacophony of gore and bile. He felt a hot tear run down his cheek as he was suddenly unable to look away.

"This…boys…was a man from town. His name or anything about him…really doesn't matter. He was cattle…and fed a greater purpose. Now, he's beautiful like this…and you both had the pleasure to witness your master in his true nature. Tell me, Daric…how does it suit you…?"

"It… suits me well, Master." Vincent wanted to scream at Daric for his answer but Daric was just looking out for his own skin so he guessed he couldn't blame him.

"And, you Vincent?"

Vincent finally looked away from the sight and looked at the now smiling Cadrian. "You're a Vampire."

Cadrian laughed. "Ah…youth. So naive and stupid. Are you stupid Vincent? Ah, don't answer. Of course you are. You've proven that to me time and again. To answer, your foolish little statement, yes. In a sense I am…but I'm so much more to that, thanks to a higher power."

He moved to be in front of Vincent and the grotesque sight on the desk. He went to touch Vincent's face and laughed as the redhead twitched and tried to steer clear of his touch without moving his body from the spot.

"Now that you boys are aware of the truth of my nature…you know that you are the only two left as well. It was been a wonderful two years and I wish I could have you both as an apprentice. Alas…today…one of you will succeed the other…and will have to prove themselves worthy of the flame or be devoured by it." He turned both boys around and led them out of the office. Vincent was pleased to get the hell out of there but new fear had risen into his throat.

"What is to be our test, Master?" Daric asked with no trace of fear in his voice.

"You will see soon, my lovely." Vincent watched as Cadrian lovingly pet Daric's hair, and Vincent had to fight back more hot sick. How could Daric even stand to be touched by a man like that?!

He led the boys to the locked basement. In all the years they'd been there, they had never been allowed even near this place. Cadrian took out a key and unlocked it. It gave a heavy sounding clack noise as it did and the door creaked open on it's own. The stairs led down into a dark abyss with the tiniest of glow at the bottom. Vincent could feel heat from here and it scared him. He didn't want to follow the devil into this hell.

Fate didn't give him the choice. There was a persistent push on his back from Cadrian and he stumbled forward. Daric grabbed his wrist before he toppled down the stairs and Vincent was never more grateful to the other boy. Vincent looked up and smiled at him…only to loose that smile when Daric's own face was pulled into that look of cold indifference.

"Lets get going." Daric stated and started walking down the stairs into the dark. He still clutched Vincent's wrist tightly, so the redhead was forced to go with him.

Vincent noted that Cadrian was staying behind and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not… His heart jumped up into his throat as Cadrian, after an age, did follow them in…but shut the door behind himself so he disappeared in the gloom of the darkness.

"Daric…Let go...You're hurting my wrist."

"…." Daric kept pulling until they finally got to the bottom of the stairs. The floor was hard like marble and their shoes echoed as they walked on it. There was a small door at the end of the hallway that was emitting that small light. Vincent couldn't see through it but it was almost unbearably hot down here.

"Daric. Let g-"

"What does it matter…?" Daric asked as he turned his grey eyes to Vincent. "One of us is going to be either dead or changed. Promise me something, Vincent…"

Vincent didn't like where this was going. "Yeah?"

"Don't cry."

"D-Don't cry? What do you mean?"

"When Cadrian does what he has to do…just… don't cry. Okay? I hate the sight of you crying…"

"What are you talking about? Do you know what he's going to do?"

Daric opened his mouth to answer but Cadrian appeared in front of them, making both boys jump. How was that even possible?! He was behind them on the staircase and there wasn't' enough room to move around them without them noticing. Yes, he was a Vampire…but he didn't think vampires could do stuff like that.

"That's enough chatter, boys. Lets get this over with, yes?" He led them up to the door that emitted the light but did not let them inside. "Boys…do you know what I kept in that gilded cage? The one I first brought out that first day?"

"Some kind of flame." Daric answered.

"In a way, yes. It is…in fact my dears, is pure magic in it's raw form. If we had to give it a name, think of it like a magic Atronoch. Or if you prefer, the spirit of magic. I trapped it in that cage years ago and if able to harness it, I could make something truly wonderful. Do you boys know why I fed the others to it? Vincent?"

Vincent shrugged, not wanting to hear this. He just wanted to leave. Cadrian was already a sick and twisted individual and he didn't even want to begin to fathom what he needed that spirit of magic for.

"No?" Cadrian asked. "Oh, Vincent my dear…You remind me a lot of my sister. Yes…I had one…just like you. I fed her to this flame…" he grinned and Vincent was surprised to hear that Cadrian would sacrifice a sibling for some kind of magical beast. "It accepted her and just like a disease…like vampirism, for example…it manifested in her body. In three short days, she would cease to be herself and be something greater… But…alas. My sister was a fool and a weak minded individual…much like yourself, Vincent. She wouldn't live with it and so…she took fate into her own hands… I won't bore you with a boring story but when she died, the spirit returned to it's cage…much like I had planned for it to do. You see, when the host dies, the spirit cannot go back to oblivion where it belongs. I bound the soul to that cage…it is trapped….much like you are….so tell me something Vincent… You seem the most capable of receiving the flame and living through the process. So…why should I sacrifice Daric instead of you…?"

Vincent's mind was sent reeling as Cadrian told the story and the question shocked him to the core. He turned his big blue eyes on Daric, only to see that cold indifference. Grey eyes met blue and behind them…Vincent saw the slightest bit of worry and fear. It sparked hope in him that Daric wasn't truly lost to him.

"Well? Your answer?"

"You shouldn't." Vincent answered finally. "Daric would be a better apprentice then me."

Daric's eyes widened and Cadrian even let out a small _'ohhhh?'_ of surprise. "Vincent…"

"Daric follows your every word and he is a good mage. He'd make a wonderful apprentice. If you have to feed someone to that beast, you can feed me. All I ask is that Daric takes care of my sister when I'm gone."

"OH, HOW SWEET!" Cadrian suddenly yelled, his voice no longer feigning sweetness. In face, he sounded angry… "Do you know what you are, Vincent? Not just an idiot! Oh no! You are perhaps, the biggest fool I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You had one chance…to save yourself and you decide self-sacrifice is the path to take. You think Daric is your friend?! He is not." Cadrian's vile smile returned. "In fact… he knows what I planned for you down here and he didn't warn you when you were in the infirmary with your precious sister…"

Vincent's head turned in Daric's direction. He saw shame filter it's way on to his face. "Daric?"

"Don't be too angry with him, Vincent." Cadrian patted him on the arm. "He pleaded so sweetly for you…Its actually kind of cute how much he cares for you….and wants you." Cadrian added the last part with a disgusting laugh. "I heard his plea's, Vincent…they did not fall on deaf ears…"

Daric looked up at Cadrian, surprised. "Master?"

"I have chosen Daric to be my apprentice. I had decided this weeks ago." Cadrian smiled again and continued. "Yet there is no rule saying I could not have two apprentices. So. Vincent. I set up this test for you. If you react in a way favorable to me, I will take you both on as my apprentices and we can live like one big happy family."

Daric smiled and grabbed Vincent's hand. "This is wonderful news. Isn't it Vincent?"

Vincent resisted the urge to rip his hand away from Daric grasp. "Yeah…great." He felt like death may be more preferable.

"I've taken great care to soundproof this room with magic so you'd have no clue what awaited you, my precious Vincent…I hope you like it."

Cadrian thrust the door open and grabbed Vincent by his shirt to haul him inside. Instantly the smell of burning flesh and hair assaulted his nose and almost mad him gag. Cadrian twisted strains of magic in his spare hand as suddenly the unnatural light dimmed and the sound slowly sunk back into the room. The first thing Vincent heard was muted high pitched screams of agony that only got louder and more defined as the sound returned.

As the light dimmed, he could see the flame of the creature. It was formless, yet had shape all at the same time. It was out of it's gilded cage that held it and flowed around an object in a larger cage in the center of the room. It took Vincent a moment to realize that's were the screams were coming from. Vincent's eyes adjusted to the light and finally all the sound returned.

It seems like all at once, his brain was assaulted with everything. His eyes could see everything now…like what exactly that creature had been roasting to death. His ears could suddenly hear that pained, familiar voice screaming out for her brother to save her. His mind was suddenly thrust into panic as he realized what his test was.

He screamed his precious sister's name and made way for the cage. Cadrian wrapped a tight arm around his waist and kept him from advancing. He could hear Cadrian laughing. He could hear Daric screaming at him to remain calm and not to cry. He could hear Grace screaming in agony as she was burned alive and over all of it he could hear his own tortured screaming.

His adrenaline kicked into high gear and without any mind for his own safety, kicked backwards, landing his foot right into Cadrian's groin. HARD. Cadrian grunted and his grip on Vincent loosened. It was enough for the redhead to get free as he ran for the burning cage.

Vincent grabbed hold of the metal bars that held his sister imprisoned and he screamed as hot flame bit into the palms of his hands, marring his white flesh. He didn't let go. He grit his teeth against the scalding pain and tried to wrench the bars off. Despite his efforts, they didn't even budge. He screamed in pain, frustration, agony and sorrow. Some point, Grace had fallen silent so he screamed for both of them.

He felt pain suddenly strike him in the chest and he felt like his body was on fire. That flaming spirit circled around him, his body felt like it was melting, yet he stayed intact. He couldn't feel the burning in his hands anymore and in fact…couldn't feel much of anything.

"G-gods…" His own voice sounded foreign to his ears. He watched the fire shift rapidly in front of his own eyes. Everything was gone…everyone was gone…yet this creature rung true with a sense of familiarity. He felt himself falling and falling as he heard an ethereal voice calling.

"Vincent…!" Daric's voice was distant and made Vincent smile. He must be going mad.

"Gods…just….kill me…"

Then all he knew was pain before darkness took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very long. I basically summarize the two years or so that Vincent stayed with Cadrian. If it seems I jump ahead too much, I apologize. I'm trying to keep his story interesting for the readers. I could go on for chapter and chapters about the little stuff I could have included but we don't really have that kind of time. I mentioned the stuff mainly of story relevance and YESSSS, there are a lot of hidden plots in here


	16. Tears to shed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Flee, brother. When the time comes to turn and face the tiger, you will know and the running may stop. You will not be alone. The one who holds your heart will join you."
> 
> "No one does." He muttered. "Not anymore."
> 
> "Not yet." She corrected. "The pain of being alone is a heavy one, dear brother… but in time, you will learn what it's like to live again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vincent's backstory part 2  
> Warnings: Angst, Abuse

\------  
\----  
\---

"You'll promise me. Won't you brother?"

Vincent opened his eyes to look up at his sister. He was lying in the summer grass beside her, shaded by a giant tree. She wasn't wearing shoes again, which made Vincent scowl, but he dismissed it for now.

"Promise what?"

She smiled…and seemed wise beyond her years. "You're always protecting me…but you never look out for yourself. You need to live for you, Vincent and no one else."

He sat up slightly so he could look down at her instead. "What are you talking about? Why are you saying this?"

"When you wake, Vincent…You will most likely blame yourself for my death." Vincent felt his blood run cold and all the color started to drain from his face. His mouth gaped open to answer but she held up a hand to silence him. "You have a greater purpose to fulfill brother…as do I."

"W-What do you…?"

"Cadrian is a vile man and if he gets his way, all of Nirn may tremble before him. He is in league with Daedra and all manners of creatures. The Divines see him as an abomination to be wiped clean." She sighed. "But not yet. Too powerful he is in this place and too weak you are."

Vincent had the sinking feeling that he may not even be talking with Grace. She never spoke this way…this wasn't like her. "…"

She smiled as if reading his mind. "Thinking it's not me, Brother? You are half right. I am not the Grace you once knew. I have been…enlightened. I was naïve when I lived…but now I know so much. The fates have grand plans for you Vincent."

"I want no part of it." Vincent wrapped his arms around his legs and pulled them closer to his body.

"Is this true? You must have a desire to embrace destiny."

"I don't even know what happened. Am I dead?"

She grew silent for a moment. "No…but knowing you…you'll wish you were. What has been done to you is in your blood already."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Ah, so I'm dreaming right now then."

"I know what you are thinking. You must not kill yourself."

"Why not?" he asked dryly. "I've failed everyone I ever cared for."

"Because there will be yet another to live for again."

"…"

"You must live." She nodded. "If you do not, Cadrian will never be stopped. He will keep doing that ritual over and over. Let it end with you." She got to her feet and Vincent followed her.

"So what do I need to do?"

"Flee, brother. When the time comes to turn and face the tiger, you will know and the running may stop. You will not be alone. The one who holds your heart will join you."

"No one does." He muttered. "Not anymore."

"Not yet." She corrected. "The pain of being alone is a heavy one, dear brother… but in time, you will learn what it's like to live again. Do you believe me?"

He shuffled his feet slightly in the grass, feeling the cool wind of summer brush against his face. He didn't know why he should believe any of this…but for some reason he did. "Yes."

"So, you need to promise me." She spoke, returning to the question she first asked. "Promise me if you find yourself with the feelings of love, you will not run away from it. It is hard, Vincent…but so is life. Trusting another…especially after how Daric has betrayed you, is going to be difficult. His love is false and bitter…do not believe all love is like that."

"He doesn't love me." Vincent spat. "He only loves himself. If he hadn't changed…then maybe I'd…"

"Some people hide truth very well from others. Daric was enamored with you the moment you saved him from the bullies that teased him. He is not a man used to anyone defending him. He was already rotten inside, though he seemed fresh on the surface. He is on a path that you cannot save him from now. He has chosen."

"How do you know all this?"

She smiled, whimsically. "The divines are always watching. They guide you, Vincent…as you will play a key role in fate."

"What role am I to play then?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot say." She sighed. "I have overstepped my boundaries already. We shouldn't even be able to speak, as you are not a prophet. To give you too much information may alter the course of fate's design." When he tilted his head in confusion, she continued. "There are millions and millions out outcomes depending on the actions of one person. That action could take but a second, yet still drastically change the fate of Nirn. The course I am attempting to set you on has the best outcome for everyone involved, including yourself."

Vincent huffed. He hated all this riddling and deception. Why couldn't see just come right out and say it? "What in oblivion do you want me to say, Grace?"

She smiled…remembering those words well. "Nothing at all, dear brother."

Hr rubbed is arms as if he was cold but in reality he felt near to nothing. He glanced at the ground and her bare feet. "…You should be wearing shoes."

She laughed and he cracked a small smile. It was a welcome noise. "I no longer feel sick, brother." Her voice was happy and light. "I no longer feel pain, the cold, the heat or weakness. I am free from my mortal coil and given a purpose that I do not deserve." She walked forward and took his hands. He was surprised by the strength of them now. "I am free." she repeated. "You did not fail me."

The statement made him want to cry. He could feel his vision water up and he choked back a soft sob that rose in his throat.

"Oh, don't despair, brother…" she reached up to wipe a tear away that had yet to fall. "…I love you."

"And I love you…" he whispered harshly.

"Promise me." she spoke firmly again. "Promise me you will live and love when it comes to you."

"That's…hard."

"Yes… It is Vincent. I can promise you that there will be those who will teach you to live again. But now… you must promise me."

"I…." He looked down into her eyes and put on a strong smile for her. "…promise."

She nodded and squeezed his hand. "I am glad to hear it." She put a free hand against her chest and it glowed with a gentle, calming light. Vincent could have sworn he saw the symbol of Talos there… "Now, I must leave you brother. You will awake soon."

He blinked as her hand slid from his and she began walking away. His first instinct was to run after her but he was stuck in place. "W-Will we talk again?"

She stopped for a moment. "Like this…? No. You are no prophet, Vincent and this was a one time rarity. If fate continues on the course we have set, the next time we speak, you shall be awake…and Cadrian will be dead. Goodbye, brother. I look forward to that day." Then she kept going and soon faded from his sight.

"So do I Grace…" He muttered to himself as the landscape ebbed away. "So do I…"

\----------  
**THE FIRST DAY**

When Vincent opened his eyes, he found himself lying in his bed. The first thing he noticed is that his window suddenly had bars on it. The coat Grace had made for him was hung up where he'd left it and everything else in the room seemed to be in its rightful place. The only thing different seemed to be those bars. So he was to be caged…hum…

He put a hand to is head, only to suddenly pull it back when he saw the bandages. Both hands had been wrapped cleanly with pristine white gauze. He deftly pulled at the one on his right hand and slowly uncoiled it. A hideous scar marred his pale flesh. Burn scars. He knew these were from when he grabbed the bars of Grace's cell. Those bars had been as hot as molten lava…he was surprised he didn't seem to have nerve damage. He wrapped it back up, not needed to unwrap the other, knowing it matched.

Oddly…the burn marks didn't hurt.

He swung his legs over the bed and attempted to stand. The whole room spun suddenly and he stumbled back, sitting down until it stopped. Then he tried again. He stood and swayed slightly. His brain felt like it was underwater. He took each step carefully until he finally reached his mirror. He looked in and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

His…eyes….

Said eyes widened and Vincent reached up to touch his cheek, just to make sure the reflection did the same. His normal, blue eyes had been replaced with rich copper ones. That wasn't all either. His skin seemed paler and his hair, a more vibrant shade of red then it was. He suddenly felt sick again and braced a hand against the cool glass of the mirror. He felt the cool glass touch his skin…and although he was aware it was cold, the cold did not seep into his hand.

_'What has been done to you is in your blood already'_

Vincent screamed in frustration and punched the image in the mirror. It shattered into a million jagged pieces, some cutting into his fist. What have they done to him!? He almost smiled at the pain…at least he knew he was truly alive.

"o-Oh! Vincent! Stop!" Came the voice of Mrs. Changine.

He whirled in her direction, ready to yell at her but stopped when he saw her face. There was a giant bruise over her left eye and her right cheek had some swelling to it. He settled for "what happened to you?"

She ignored him and took his hand, leading him back to his bed. She sat him down on it and begun picking the glass quickly from his hand. He could see tears forming at the corner of her eyes as she worked.

"Mrs. Changine…"

She pulled the last piece out and covered his injured hand with her own. "I couldn't stop them."

Vincent blinked. "What?"

"I didn't know what they had planned. I swear it to you!" She looked up at him, tears beginning to run down her old face. "I knew you had a test coming up. Master Belemonde warned me ahead of time to have the infirmary ready for your arrival, should you live…"

"That's what you tried to warn me about."

She nodded. "I took Daric to the back room to plead to him. He has the master's ear… I pleaded with him to dismiss the master from this course of action."

"What did he say?"

Her little hand tightened on his. "Nothing… he just… listened to me with a straight face. Then he smiled and left the back room. I swear I didn't know they would come for Grace. It was almost immediately after you left. Some of the guards showed up and grabbed her. When I resisted they…" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that I've failed you. I'm so, so sorry…"

"You've heard what happened?"

She nodded, more tears running down her cheek.

"Mrs. Changine…" When she continued to sob, he sighed gently and put his free hand against her face to catch some of the tears. "Emily…" He spoke using her given name. She met his eyes and he smiled with more kindness than he thought himself possible of doing. "It's okay. You did not fail me or Grace. You have been an angel to us these past two years and I could not have asked for better."

"B-But she-!"

"Shh… It's… okay. Grace forgives you. I forgive you. Just don't cry anymore. You're going to make me start."

She nodded and hugged him tightly. He felt a bit awkward but wrapped his arms around the small elderly woman to hug her back. She suddenly pulled away and picked up his injured hand again. "Look here, Vincent."

When he did, he saw the small cuts on his hand had vanished entirely. He was already healed?

"Vincent…" she started. "I know what has happened to you. Only one other had survived what you have endured and I had the pleasure of knowing her. Our lady, Lilliana Belemonde. The sister of our master…"

"What happened…? To her…I mean?"

"She was a brilliant woman." She smiled fondly at the memory. "A skilled mage, smart, talented and beautiful…. You actually look a lot like her… which is why I think the master was so smitten on getting you. She… also had a wild side to her that ached to be defiant. She went out one night and before any of us knew it, filled her stomach with child."

"I'm guessing Cadrian wasn't pleased."

"No." She confirmed. "The master…he's… a very sick man. He… coveted his sister. When he found out he… was not pleased. He was not yet the monster he was now, but he was still a powerful mage…much more powerful then the lady. She used to confide in me. She was terrified of the reckoning that she knew her brother must be planning. All she cared about was the safety of her unborn child."

"What happened then?"

She sighed. "I know not when the master did it but he made deals with the Daedric gods. He gained the power of immortality through Vampirism and bound that spirit of magic to a cage. With it, I believe, he intends to fulfill his contract with whatever Daedra he made his bargain with. The spirit needs a magical host….and he chose his sister."

"So that's why he was gathering us kids. That's why he fed any that failed to the fire."

"I believe so."

"Do you know what happened to her? Beside the obvious?"

"Yes and no. She became the spirits host. She was somehow strong enough to endure it. She talked with me…much like we are talking now. She had plans. She told me the spirit had manifested in her like a disease. In three days, she would become the spirit and all that was left of her would fade away. The spirit would then be able to walk the mortal plane and who knows what the master had planned then. This plague upon her soul could not be cured. Any temple would say that nothing was wrong with her."

"Did she kill herself then?"

"No. My lady was also a brilliant alchemist. She devised a potion to keep her illness at bay… all she had to do would be to take it every three days. It would be like a reset on a timer, Vincent. She would have three more days of time to figure out how to rid herself of the creature."

"Did she ever?"

"I do not know Vincent. She left a few things in my possession and then fled. To where, I did not know. The spirit returned to the cage years later. She either found a way to rid herself of it's possession…or she died."

"What about the child she was carrying?"

"The master told me that when the spirit entered her body, she aborted."

Vincent grimaced. "And he didn't care did he?"

"No."

"Bastard…" Vincent suddenly snarled and startled the old woman. "He'll get what he deserves."

She pursed her lips. "Vincent…It will take me some time…but I promise I will help you. The objects that the lady left in my possession will aid you…I will help you escape here."

"I thank you, but without that magic potion you were talking about I'll just turn after the three days are up."

A sudden knock on the door startled both of them. Mrs. Changine glanced at Vincent quickly and whispered. "Let me worry about that. Do not tell anyone of what we have spoken of." The she stood before the door flew open.

To reveal Cadrian.

Vincent bit back a growl that threatened to erupt from his throat. Every fiber of him wanted to rip this man to shreds for what he had done. Not just for what he'd done to Vincent, oh no…but for everyone he'd ever hurt. Grace, the lady Lilliana, Mrs. Changine, all the boys…and everyone else. He knew Cadrian's body count must be piling up…and it would only get larger unless he was stopped.

"Mrs. Changine, dear…I know you are tending to our little spitfire here, but do you mind terribly if he and I were left alone?"

She knew she couldn't get between them right now. She had work to do and it needed to be done. She glanced at Vincent and nodded at him before walking up to Cadrian, bowing and then leaving the room. Cadrian shut the door behind him and it filled Vincent with unease. Cadrian wouldn't kill him though. He knew it. Cadrian needed him….

"Ah. Look at you." he spoke affectionately. "Not even a tear in your eye."

"I won't give you the pleasure." Vincent snapped. He knew Cadrian would probably get off on seeing him upset and broken over the death of his sister. He held all his grief inside and slowly let it morph into rage for this man.

"You screamed so beautifully as she burned though…I was hoping to hear more."

Vincent grit his teeth. "If you've come here only to mock me, I'm afraid you'll be sorely disappointed."

"Oh Vincent…" Cadrian reached forward as if to touch his face and Vincent slapped his hand away. Cadrian's eyebrow raised. "My, my… such teeth you have now."

"You won't kill me."

"You sound certain of that, my dear."

"I am." Vincent glared at the taller man.

"How cute." Cadrian nodded. "You're right…for once. I will not be killing you. You can take your own life if you wish. I won't stop you nor would I be surprised. I'm sure you'd love to join your sister."

Vincent looked away from him. "Just… leave me alone."

Cadrian smiled broadly again, obviously thinking he won. He walked over and forcibly grabbed Vincent's chin and tilted his head up. "Your body is stronger now… I'm sure you've experienced a change. I've given you a gift, Vincent. One you were apparently worthy of…"

Vincent grabbed the Cadrian's wrist but his hand didn't budge. "Let go of me."

"Making demands now?"

"Your touch makes my skin crawl. Let go."

"You are adorable…" He leaned in and Vincent felt his heart rate pick up. "You look just like my sister." he mused, so close now that Vincent could feel Cadrian's breath against his face. "That same defiant, hated look she possessed, you also have. She shunned my attentions, much like you had…maybe that's why…I'm so drawn to you."

He leaned in as if to kiss him. Vincent would be damned if he let Cadrian take his first kiss from him. With a quick swipe of his hand, he dug his nails into Cadrian's cheek and left jagged scratch marks down the side of Cadrian's face. Cadrian let out a noise of pain and recoiled. He quickly backhanded Vincent across the face. The blow was strong enough to knock Vincent from the bed and onto the floor. He hit the floor hard and the room spun slightly from the impact.

"You little, fucking, bitch." Cadrian's voice practically hissed.

A sudden kick to the stomach took all the air out of Vincent's body and he tried to lock up as more and more blows to the stomach connected. Cadrian didn't stop until Vincent was coughing up blood. Vincent was used to his beatings so he just let his body go numb. Cadrian touched his own marks with a look of grimace on his face before glancing down at Vincent's broken form. Vincent could feel his body rapidly repairing the damage Cadrian had just wrought on him, though it was not instantaneous.

"You're lucky, you son of a whore." Cadrian scowled. "You're lucky you're worth more to me alive then dead, currently."

Then he stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

When Vincent could breathe again, he cracked a smile and rested on the floor where Cadrian left him. It still felt like a victory.

\--------  
**DAY 2**

Vincent knew he'd show eventually. In the middle of the second day his door was opened to reveal Daric. Vincent didn't even glance up at the other boy. He sat by his barred window with the coat Grace had made for him in his lap. He looked out at freedom while touching the fabric softly. He'd get out of here…He had a promise to keep. Vincent could feel Daric's eyes on him but he didn't care.

"Vincent…"

He ignored him. He didn't want to talk to Daric right now.

"Vincent. Look at me."

Again, Vincent ignored him. The plea in his voice almost made Vincent look but he remembered what Grace had told him. _His love is false and bitter…_

He heard Daric sigh and heard his footsteps draw closer. He tried not to flinch as Daric grabbed a chair and sat down across from him. Vincent did not meet his gaze. He keep looking out his barred window as if Daric hadn't even walked in.

"Vincent…listen to me. Are you eating? You need to keep well." He paused, as if waiting for a response. When he got none he continued. "I saw the Master's face. He is furious, Vincent." that almost made Vincent smile. "I don't want to lose you. I care for you, and I love you."

That made Vincent meet his gaze, finally. Daric was different. The grey eyes that Vincent had become accustomed to were now a deep shade of red and his skin appeared an almost sickly pale. Vincent chose to ignore his declaration of love and raised a fine eyebrow.

"What happened to you?"

Daric blinked. "Pardon?"

"You are different."

Daric cracked an affectionate smile. "So are you."

"Not by choice. How about you?"

"The Master saw it fit that I join him in eternity. I accepted." he wrung his hands together almost nervously. "It…was painful."

"I can imagine." Vincent scowled, sounding dreadfully sarcastic. Daric didn't know the meaning of the word.

"Vincent…I'm glad you live."

Vincent's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"W-Why?" Daric seemed off put by his response. "Because…I'd be lost without you."

"In less then two days I won't be me anymore. You're going to lose me anyway. I'd be better off dead."

"T-That's…that's not…" Daric seemed to stumble for the right words. "You'll still be around Vincent…it will be more as the passenger instead of the main host?"

"So I am to become a guest in my own body, if not vanish completely…. Yes. My thanks for that."

"Don't be that way. It-"

"Answer me something, Daric." Vincent spoke cutting him off.

"Uhhh…okay."

"Did you know? Did you know that he was going to use Grace?"

"…."

"You said you loved me." Vincent stated.

"I do."

"Then answer me and answer me with the truth."

The long pause was all Vincent really needed to confirm the truth but he to hear it from Daric. After an age, Daric sighed. "Yes… I knew."

"For how long?"

"A few days."

"And you didn't see it fit to tell me?"

"I knew how you would react Vincent! You'd freak out and do something stupid and get yourself killed! Master was getting sick of your defiance and was just going to feed you to the flame! I had to do something!"

Vincent's eye twitched slightly…the only expression now on his blank face. "Daric…what did you do?"

Daric's lips pursed slightly. "I…gave him the suggestion."

"…." Vincent took a moment to process that. "You…what?"

"I gave the master the suggestion to use your sister."

He surprisingly did not expect the punch that followed. He took Vincent's fist full to the face and toppled backwards out of the chair from the force of the blow. Daric groaned and clutched his nose in agony as Vincent slowly got to his feet.

"How could you…" Vincent hissed through a veil of rage.

"She was holding you back!" Daric's voice came out slightly nasally. Vincent grinned inwardly at the thought of breaking his nose. "Everything you did concerned only her and not yourself! You could have been the best if not for her!"

"My sister was **NOT** a handicap on my training! I **LOVED** her! That's what it meant to have family!"

Daric slowly got to his feet. Vincent could see blood pouring down his nose and onto his chin. Daric's now red eyes narrowed. "She probably wasn't even your real sister."

"…"

"You looked _NOTHING_ like her Vincent! Not even a single feature was the same!"

"Shut up!"

"Why would you risk yourself for someone who isn't even family!?"

"I risked myself for you, didn't I?!" Vincent advanced on him and saw the boy flinch slightly. Yes. A boy…not a man. "You and Grace seemed to be my only lights in this dark hell and you betrayed me!"

"I did not! I saved you!"

"Saved me!? _SAVED ME!?_ FROM WHAT?! CADRIAN?! DEATH!? You have saved me from _**NOTHING**_!" Vincent erupted into a coughing fit and put a hand against his own chest to try and stop the grated hacking noise.

Daric shook slightly in place, swallowing thickly. It was clear that he didn't know what to say. Good. Vincent didn't want to hear another word from him. His coughing finally calmed down and he narrowed his eyes at the boy across from him.

"I don't care what you think, Daric…She WAS my sister. I remember looking into her cradle as a child and I took care of her my whole life. You have taken that privilege from me. Get out."

Daric's mouth opened for a moment before he shut it again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Vincent could see it was defiantly broken. "Vincent… I-"

"Get. Out."

"I love you." He blurted. "I always did."

Vincent heaved a big sigh. His love is false and bitter. "No. You didn't. You don't. You never did. Get out."

It took a few minutes of silence but Daric finally spoke. "I won't give up on you." Then turned and left the room. Vincent sighed again and sat back down. Cadrian would most likely be furious about Daric's injury but he found himself unable to care. He picked back up the discarded coat and resumed looking out to freedom.

\--------  
**DAY 3**

Vincent held on to the shard of glass he had saved. He twirled it about deftly in his fingers as he watched the sun rise and move across the sky. He coughed, feeling ill as the hours flew by. He had not received a replacement mirror so he had no idea how shitty he must look right now. He almost smiled. So this is how it felt to be so close to the edge? When the sun set, it would be the final push and Cadrian will win. Vincent would be damned. He'd kill himself first.

Daric had not come back to visit, nor had Cadrian. Vincent did not see this as a loss. If he was to die, he didn't want to see either of them. Grace had said that fate had more in store for him, but with each passing moment, he was losing faith. As it got darker, he palmed the glass tighter. It would be sharp enough to slit his throat with and if he was lucky, he would die from it.

He did not fear death, but he would be lying if he said he wanted to die. Grace had changed his mind on that. She made him promise to carry on and that's what he'd do...if given the chance. How long could he wait? The end of the third day was drawing closer and closer and Vincent was at wits end. A low burn in his stomach was becoming more and more prominent, to the point of being painful. Part of him wanted to curl into the fetal position and cry but he knew that would do him no good.

He closed his eyes tightly as dusk approached and silently begged the Gods to help him. As if answering his call, salvation did arrive.

Mrs. Changine quickly opened the door without knocking and rushed over to Vincent's side. She gasped as she saw his face and shook his wrist.

"Vincent. Vincent sweetie… are you okay?"

He nodded slowly but erupted into another coughing fit.

"Here! Vincent!" She handed him a little red potion bottle. "Drink this! Do it quickly!"

He took it from her and downed it without asking. He gagged and almost threw up the offensive substance but he managed to hold it down as it burned down his throat. In a few moments, however…he felt much better. The burn in his gut subsided and he found himself feeling stronger. He looked up at the old woman curiously, to see that she had a giant smile on her face.

"It worked! Praise the Gods!"

"It worked?"

"The potion Vincent. The one that reverses the progression by three days! Praise the nine!"

Vincent let the glass slip from his hand, a smile slowly coming to his face. He was not to die here. Not today. "So now what do we do?" She handed him a knapsack as he stood up and he took it slowly from her. "What's all this now?"

"There is enough potions in there for a month worth of doses, the recipe, some of the ingredients and anything I could spare. The master and Daric will be here soon to get you, and we need to get you out of here!"

"What about you? Won't they know you helped me?"

She smiled. "No. The other servants are covering for me. When you escape, the master will go looking for you. The others and I will leave while he is gone. He won't notice we've left until it's too late…and I don't mean to place this on you Vincent, but he'll be too busy chasing after you, to chase after us."

"I understand."

"Well hurry up and get ready."

Vincent dug through the knapsack and found a pair of leather black gloves. He quickly put those on and smiled as he saw she managed to get him a few changes of clothes, some gold, a blanket, food and other important items. She really was a saint. He needed only one other thing.

He grabbed the coat Grace made for him and slung it on. Then he slung the knapsack. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Good. Follow me." She opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. "Alright. The master will be here shortly. We must hurry."

She led Vincent through the twisting hallways and toward the staircases.

"Where are we going?"

"The master will have the doors guarded." Mrs. Changine spoke as she started climbing up the stairs. "You will have to leave in the same manner the lady did."

Vincent raised an eyebrow but followed the old woman. He could hear the urgency in her voice and knew they must hurry. If Cadrian had not yet discovered that he was missing from his room, he soon would. She led Vincent up to a tall tower. He'd never been in this section of the castle before. Cadrian had declared this whole wing off limits so he hadn't even been near it.

Mrs. Changine opened up an old wooden door and led Vincent inside. Inside there was some dusty old boxes in a rather spacious room and a wide open window. Other then that, it was a dead end. Vincent was about to ask, but he heard a cry of alarm far behind them and Cadrian yelling in the distance. Time had run out.

"This is it." Mrs. Changine spoke gesturing toward the window. Vincent made his way to it and looked out. It was a dizzying drop at least fifty feet down with nothing to grab on to. The only thing to catch him would be the harsh freezing river water below.

"Are you serious…?"

"This is the way the lady took. With that spirit inside…you should survive the fall."

"Should, hun?" Vincent chuckled nervously. "There is no other way is there?"

"I'm afraid not." She sighed. "I have to leave you now Vincent, so the master doesn't catch me up here with you. You must make your choice and make it quickly."

He took her hand briefly. "Thank you…for everything."

She smiled a bit sadly. "I'll pray for you Vincent. May we meet again in different circumstances."

Her old hand slid from his as she left the room and took off down the hall. Vincent waited until she was out of sight before turning back to the window.

"Okay…" he spoke softly to himself as he stepped up on the windowsill. "If some lady who was probably half my weight jumped from this window and lived then I should be able to, too…right?" Vincent was never really afraid of heights, but looking down was making his head spin. He could see and hear the loud crashing of the water against the castle. If he fell in, he'd most likely be dragged out toward the sea. Plus side, if he lived, Cadrian would have a hell of a time finding him at first, and if he kept moving, he'd be way ahead of him. Negative side, he died. Not very good choices but he didn't really HAVE a choice.

"VINCENT!"

He glanced over his shoulder to see Cadrian and Daric coming his way. Daric was sprinting toward him but Cadrian was casually walking. Cadrian's face was furious, however. Vincent felt almost a sick satisfaction at making him so angry. Daric stopped in the doorway and Vincent could see his nose had been healed, probably by magic. Shame.

"Are we quite finished, Vincent…?" Cadrian asked folding his arms. "You are acting like quite the child. Come down from there."

Vincent stayed on the sill and looked back down at the rushing water. Now or never, he supposed.

"Don't go!"

Vincent looked over his shoulder once more at Daric. "…Daric."

"Don't do it. You'll die."

"No I won't."

"Stay with me Vincent. Don't leave me."

"…"

"Yes. Do stay, Vincent dear. Poor little Daric would be lost without you." Vincent did not miss the mocking tone on the edge of Cadrian's voice. "Daric is quite right, you know. You'll die from such a height."

Vincent turned his back on them again. "Your sister didn't die." he smiled at Cadrian's silence and started to lean forward. He shut his eyes and smiled a warm a gentle smile. This was it. He then let go of the side and felt his body falling forward into the open air.

_**"NOOO!"** _

He could hear Daric yelling and his voice became more and more distant. Soon all he could hear was the wind rushing in his ears. He knew he could be falling to his death but he smiled as he rapidly descended. Either way…he was free.

Hitting the cold, rough water, snapped him senses into place. He knew it was cold and for the briefest moment he had felt it. Then, nothing. He could feel the water but not the cold. He opened his eyes as he felt the current pulling him roughly away. The surface looked far above. With a though and a small gesture of his hand, he cast water breathing on himself and just let the current pull him away from the Devil, and his special hell.

\-------  
Vilkas took a moment to process what he'd just heard. Vincent had stopped talking and it had been a good ten minutes since he last spoke.

"Is that all?" Vilkas asked, finally speaking. He'd been silent for the whole tale, even though he'd had so many questions.

"What do you mean?"

"You ran from Cadrian when you were eighteen and now you're twenty-seven. That can't be the whole story."

"Well, there are the years that filled those gaps." Vincent admitted. "I wouldn't say they were overly important though. I met kind people who would take me in for a few months…longest a year and then at the first sign of Cadrian's presence, I'd leave. Though the people I've met have restored a faith in me that I thought I'd lost. They were willing to shelter a stranger. It was a kindness I could have never repaid."

"So for nine years, you've been doing nothing but running?"

"I didn't have much choice in that, Vilkas. I wasn't about to risk the lives of the people who took me in by staying."

Vincent stopped walking. He could see their destination before them and he had to have this whole mess behind him before he went to battle. "So, what about us? Were you just going to leave once you were aware of Cadrian's presence?"

"…"

Vilkas turned to face him for the first time since Vincent had started his story. His eyes narrowed slightly at Vincent's lack of response. "Vincent. Answer me."

"Yes." He admitted quickly. "I was going to conveniently vanish on a task you would have sent me on. You probably would have thought I was just a fool who got myself killed in some ruin."

"How long then…?"

Vincent sighed. "How long, what?"

"How long have you known that Cadrian and Daric were here?"

"I had…an inkling when we found Skjor. It was Cadrian's trademark…I had tried to trick myself into thinking it was that Krev the skinner. Maybe it was him…but the red in his eyes had unsettled me."

"So that's why you blamed yourself as you did for his death…"

"In my head…I knew Cadrian must have had something to do with it…I just wasn't ready in my heart to accept it." He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I didn't want this life to be over."

"If it was so easy to run…" Vilkas began taking a step closer to him. "…then why did you stay? You could have ran off when Kodlak sent you on that week errand."

"Yes. I could have." Vincent concluded. "I chose not to."

"Why?"

Vincent's head snapped up to meet his gaze. "Why?!"

"Aye."

"That's obvious Vilkas. Isn't it?"

"You lied to me before." Vilkas tried to be stern but he knew deep down in his heart, he already forgave him.

"I had my reasons Vilkas. How fast would you have thrown me from Jorrvaskr's halls when you found out what I was? Not only am I a mage but I am basically housing a creature of raw magic within my very soul. I know how you detest magic."

"Magic has killed Kodlak as well. You're little friend Daric saw to that."

"D-Daric…? I thought Cadrian...or the silver hand..." He saw those copper eyes widen and Vincent suddenly put his gloved hands to his face. "Oh Gods…Daric."

"Do you care for him?" Vilkas tried to keep the anger from his voice but he was sure he was failing.

"No. Any feeling I may have had for Daric had died long ago…I'm just….disappointed at how far he's fallen."

"…I see."

"So…magic has also killed Kodlak…" Vincent looked away. "I guess you hate magic more then ever now."

"Aye."

"You told me once…that Magic had touched me and I wasn't spoiled by it…but you are wrong Vilkas. I have lied to you…I've put you in danger and it's my fault that Skjor and Kodlak are now dead. I'm as spoiled as it gets…."

"Vincent…"

"I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry about everything and I'm sorry that I caught you up in this. I just thought… I don't…" He seemed to struggle with the words. "I've met a lot of people, Vilkas. I've had my opportunities to stay and try to love, but I'd never felt anything. You make me feel…different."

"Different…?"

"Almost like… I don't know. I care about what you think of me. I cared when I thought you hated me. I found myself wanting to be around you and I actively tried to seek you out…even if just for a second. Every time we spoke though…you just seemed so angry and magic was always the cause. I was terrified to tell you…but I know these are all just horrible excuses. I should have told you. I should have trusted that you would understand…I just…" He sighed again. "I didn't want to lose you."

"Why did you stay?" Vilkas repeated.

"I hadn't planned on it…even though I felt…something for you. I decided I would stay the night you marked me. It must have been the way you kissed me, or something." He glanced up a bit shyly. "I knew the ritual would most likely fail, but I was willing to try so I could stay."

"I see. So what now, Vincent? Where does this leave us?"

"That's up to you. I did not lie when I told you I loved you Vilkas. I have not loved since Grace was ripped from me and that was a different kind of love. I… understand, however if you cannot care for me that way any longer. I am what you hate. I-"  
He was cut off when Vilkas suddenly leaned in and kissed him. Vilkas was not even sure why he was doing it but he thinks it was to answer the unanswered question. It would have to be enough.

"I have questions…but they will wait for today." Vilkas pulled away and sighed, pulling his sword from its sheath.

"Vilkas…"

"We have work to do. They have made off with all our fragments of Wuuthrad. But you and I are going to reclaim them. We bring this battle to their chief camp. There will be none left living to tell their stories. Only songs of Jorrvaskr will be sung. We WILL avenge Kodlak and they will know terror before the end." Speaking those words made Vilkas feel better.

He glanced behind him and could have sworn he saw that beautiful smile. He fought against a smile of his own and charged into battle.


	17. You found me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Before the ancient flame…" She began.
> 
> "We grieve."

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"Are we going to talk?" Vincent asked, shyly reaching out to touch Vilkas' shoulder.

Vilkas felt the touch and the nervousness behind it. It was like their relationship had taken a major backslide. Vilkas did not want to feel this way but now it felt so much was holding him back. Were they doomed to tip-toe around each other?

Vilkas stood in a pile of carnage. Vincent and he had caught them all by surprise. Vilkas had slaughtered them like small animals and he did so without mercy. He remembered the look on the leaders face. That fear…That delicious fear…He clenched his eyes shut as he could feel the hunger of his wolf. His wolf was so close and the call was hard to resist. He'd given into the basic instinct. Anger, hate, revenge and primal urge.

Even though Vincent's touch was shy and gentle, it still sent shivers into his body. He really, REALLY, didn't want to but he moved away from that touch. After everything Vincent had told him, he didn't want to take advantage of him…especially not in a place like this.

"Vilkas…"

"Just…Give me a minute." Vilkas took in a deep breath. His every fiber was screaming to give in and he was oh so close to the edge. "Go collect the shards…I'll be fine." He didn't relax until he heard Vincent's footsteps retreat. Vilkas took in a shaky sigh and started to wade through the sea of dead. The fresh scent of blood was driving him insane.

Deep down in his gut, he regretted this. He blamed his fiery temper. It obscured his judgment and seemed almost more of a debilitation then his beast. He needed to get out of here….but he couldn't leave Vincent. No matter how confused and how many questions he had, he couldn't run away. Not anymore. He went into a nearby room that had no bodies inside and leaned against the wall. At least his beast had begun to calm.

"Vilkas?"

"I'm in here."

Vincent walked through the threshold with the fragments in his gloved hands. "Are these all of them…?"

Vilkas glanced at them and nodded. "Aye."

Vincent pocketed the fragments and gave Vilkas a soft look. "Are you okay…?"

"Let's just get out of here." Vilkas crossed his arms and turned to leave without another word.

 

Out in the fresh air, he could at least breathe without fear of giving into his inner beast. They walked in silence for a long time. Vilkas had glanced over his shoulder at Vincent once or twice and saw his mate seemed unbothered by the silence. When eyes would meet, Vincent would just give Vilkas a soft reassuring smile and nothing more. Maybe nothing else was needed.

Vilkas seemed calm on the outside but inside his mind was spinning in turmoil. He had so many questions and no idea how to start asking. He wanted to believe Vincent unconditionally, and in truth he had no real reason not to. Yes, the story was a bit far fetched, but everything seemed to add up in its own weird way.

Vincent's constant fear, his need to be protected, that Daric guy and why he acted as he did, That small girl who visited him in his dreams, Skjor's death and the death that was prophesied for Kodlak…it would have happened had Vilkas not interfered. He was sure Vincent must be the same way right now. Looking calm but probably worrying on the inside. They seemed to be alike in that way.

"I believe you." Vilkas suddenly spoke.

"Really?" Vincent sounded slightly surprised, and seemingly knew to what exactly Vilkas was referring.

"Aye. The things you've said add up. I believe you." He paused, wondering if he should say. Although Vincent already admitted he'd had some apparent contact with the Gods in his own dreams so what did he have left to lose? "I've seen Grace."

"…" He heard Vincent stop walking.

He stopped as well and turned to face him. Vincent's face was furiously blank, except for the slight widening of his eyes.

"Vincent?"

"I…you…what?" Vincent stammered.

"In my dreams." Vilkas clarified. "I started having them right before I marked you. I've had…visions of the future or possible futures. In my latest dream, I was visited by a small girl wearing an Amulet of Talos. I thought I was just going mad but her description matches your sister, Grace. That can't be coincidental."

"She visits you…in your dreams?"

"She only showed herself for the first time a few days ago. I'm sure now that she has been showing me all these images that had plagued my dreams. I knew Kodlak was going to die before he even did. She showed me how he was to die and due to my intervention, it didn't come to pass…though I was too slow to stop his actual passing." The last part was spoken with the tiniest hint of sorrow and self-loathing. Why couldn't he have been faster?

"Vilkas…are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything. She gave me cryptic messages and a warning of the end times. When you mentioned seeing her in your own dreams, that is what made me believe you. There was no way you could have known I was having them, so you couldn't have added it just to relate to me."

"I thought that would be the one thing that would that you'd call me crazy for."

Vilkas sighed. "Apparently not."

"So…what do we do now Vilkas?" He walked forward to be directly at Vilkas' side. "It's obvious the Gods have taken interest in our lives now. What can we do?"

"I'd say we should obey them, although we must have a will of our own. From what I've seen…the future may be dark."

"And us…?"

Vilkas looked down at his mate and scowled in his very characteristic way but grabbed Vincent by the hand. "I am not going to wax poetic, Vincent. You already know the answer." Then he pulled him along.

"Awww…Can't you say it?"

"No."

"Boo. You're no fun."

Vilkas held his hand all the way back to Whiterun. The gently falling snow drifted around them and the soft sounds of nature echoed in the cold air. It seemed like they had jumped over a hurtle that had blocked them from each other. Vilkas had been afraid of a backslide, but in reality they had only come closer. The world may fall apart around them but Vilkas was determined to hold him through it all. Magic or not.

This may be the Gods taking control of his destiny and his rebellious side would not want to give in to the will of the Gods. When he looked at Vincent…he found that he suddenly didn't care about the Gods. Let them run their weaves of fate and counter-plots to the end times. Vilkas didn't care as long as he had the mage.

Not that he'd tell Vincent any of that.

 

"The others have probably prepared Kodlak's funeral by now…" Vilkas spoke when they entered the gates to Whiterun. He hadn't let go of Vincent's hand and actually tightened his grip when others looked. There had been a time he would have been ashamed at those stares…

Vincent seemed unbothered by the looks and proceeded as if they weren't even there. "Yeah…Vilkas… I'm so sorry I wasn't there. Maybe I could have stopped him."

"Who? That worm?" Vilkas tried to bite back the anger in his voice but failed. He saw Vincent visibly flinch.

"He was not so bad once. A simpleton in reality. One that was afraid to lose his life more then anything. A scared, stupid child. I could have possibly reasoned with him."

"There will be no reasoning." Vilkas spat. "He killed Kodlak with a smile on his face. If I catch him, I'll kill him. I owe Kodlak that much."

"Vilkas…"

"Don't Vilkas, me. Do you agree to this? Kodlak must be avenged. Your sister must be avenged."

"Yes. I agree, Vilkas." Vincent's gloved hand gave his a squeeze. "Grace deserves vengeance. So do Kodlak and Skjor…but killing Daric or Cadrian isn't going to bring any of them back. We need to think this thing through and not charge in blindly. I don't want to lose you to this, Vilkas…"

"You won't lose me." Vilkas spoke quickly and under his breath. The small smile Vincent gave was enough to show he'd heard. He looked toward Jorrvaskr and let out a deep sigh. He could see his own breath in the cold air in front of him and he watched it drift up before vanishing. "We should head up to the Skyforge and pay our respects."

 

All the companions gathered up on the Skyforge this time. Skjor's own death had been downplayed due to the violence of it. Not Kodlak's. He was nestled in a pyre atop the forge, with the companion colors streaming and surrounding his body. The sun was setting and peeking out though the snowy clouds as if to bless his passing. Vilkas knew there was no blessing in this. The sun might as well be the fiery eye of Hircine.

Beside him, Vincent had tensed up at the sight of Kodlak's dead form again. Vilkas had been so angry; he hadn't given Vincent any time to morn. He added that to a list of things he'd probably forever feel guilty for. Damn, that list seemed to be getting long as of late. In a deep dark part of him, he kind of missed when he was alone and didn't give a shit about anything.

"Who will go first?" Eorlund asked looking around at the collection of mourners.

"I will." Aela spoke up, raising her lit torch.

Vilkas glanced at Vincent only to find the mage starring at him with a confused look. He'd never been to a harbinger's funeral. It was different then any other death. There was more of a show to it for the departing of a harbinger. Skjor's had been simple and sweet. Kodlak would not get that privilege.

"We have a way of sending out the Harbingers. Just listen." Vilkas whispered to him gently. Vincent nodded and scooted slightly closer to Vilkas as if looking for warmth.

"Before the ancient flame…" She began.

"We grieve." Everyone answered except for the members not exclusive to the circle and Vincent (Who didn't know any of the words.)

"At this loss…" Eorlund continued.

"We weep."

Vilkas clutched Vincent's hand again and spoke clearly. "For the fallen…"

"We shout."

Farkas had on his big puppy eyes as he finished the last part. "And for ourselves…"

"We take our leave."

Aela slowly walked forward and set the pyre alight without hesitation. She had burned other harbingers in this way but Vilkas felt with Kodlak, it should be different. She then turned and addressed the crowd.

"His spirit is departed. Members of the circle, let us withdraw to the under forge, to grieve our last together."

Everyone else slowly filed away. Ria, Torvar, Athis and Nadia all decided to leave Jorrvaskr for awhile and went out to go drinking in town. Torvar claimed boozing and being a loud, obnoxious pest in public was part of the grieving process, and a way to celebrate Kodlak. Vilkas couldn't argue with him.

His eyes shot down to Vincent for a moment and found his mate extremely tense. His eyes were locked on the burning pyre and the color had drained from his face. Vilkas tugged on Vincent's hand to get his attention. When those copper eyes lifted to meet his, Vilkas saw fear and sorrow inside them. Vincent would naturaly blame himself for this.

"Do you have the fragments of Wuuthrad still?"

Vilkas turned his head, thinking Eorlund was talking to him, only to see him talking to Vincent.

"Yes. I have them right here." Vincent was quick to rebound once he had looked away from the fire and let go of Vilkas' hand to reach into the pocket of his pastel coat. He then held them out for Eorlund to see.

"I'll need to prepare them for mounting again."

"Here." He gave them all to Eorlund and retook Vilkas' hand.

Eorlund seemed unbothered by their display of affection for one another. "Good lad. I have a small favor to ask of you though. There was always a piece that Kodlak kept close to him. Can you go to his chambers and bring it back for me? I'm not sure I'm the best one to go through his things."

"And I am?" Vincent lifted an eyebrow.

"Aye. Why not?"

Vincent shrugged. "Sure. Do I need to get it right away?"

"No. Just don't keep me waiting all night, lad. I appreciate it." Then he turned away to get the pieces ready.

"Are you two coming?" Aela asked heading for the stairs with Farkas close behind her.

"Can we meet you there a bit later?" Vilkas asked. "Eorlund asked Vincent to retrieve something for him and I'd rather not leave him alone right now."

"Fair enough." She smiled but it was strained. Vilkas was relived to see that she was indeed, affected by the death of Kodlak.

Vincent and Vilkas made their way down to the court yard in silence. Vilkas could smell metal, hair and flesh burning. It never settled right with him. He knew Vincent could smell it too…

"We fought here for the first time."

Vincent's voice gave him pause. He turned to see the mage standing in the middle of the courtyard, much like he had that fateful night of their meeting. Vilkas had thought that Vincent wouldn't last a week with them…now nearly half a year later, here he stood. Not enemies. Not rivals. Not yet lovers.

"Aye we did." Vilkas turned away from going inside and instead joined Vincent in the center of the courtyard.

"You were so mean." Vincent had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I still am."

"No. You've changed." Vincent nodded. "Still grumpy…but not mean."

"I treated you badly when you came back. I call that mean."

"You were not yet aware of my unique circumstance. It was something I should have told you long ago. I am sorry I did not."

"How much did Farkas and Kodlak know…? How did it even come about?"

"It happened on my proving test. In that dreaded place that Farkas took me…that tomb. After we were ambushed by the silver hand, we had to fight more Draugr. There was a Wright and it tried to hurt Farkas. I had to…reveal a bit of my power to help him."

"I see."

"I had him promise not to tell. He seemed concerned so I told him he could tell Kodlak, and no one else. Above all, I didn't want you to know."

"Why's that?"

"You hate magic." He spoke a matter-of-fact. "I found myself caring what you thought about me. I thought you hated me already, but some part of me couldn't bare the thought of you finding out."

"If it makes you feel any better, I thought I hated you too."

Vincent cracked a real smile. "Sure. As for how much they knew…not much. I only told the bare essentials to Farkas and I mentioned Cadrian and Daric to Kodlak." Vilkas cringed suddenly and it did not go unnoticed. "Something you want to say, Vilkas..?"

"…I met Daric. Right before you left on that week mission."

"What...?"

"Kodlak made me promise not to tell you he was here. I didn't know why, and Kodlak wouldn't explain. He just said that we'd all talk about it when you returned from your mission." Vilkas folded his arms. "If I had known who he was previous, I would have never let him leave…I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You had a right to keep it from me, I suppose. If you had told me earlier…I may not have been as understanding as I am now…"

Vincent looked back up at the forge before quickly looking away again. "Now, we'll never know."

"Aye…." Vilkas knew that he wasn't the only one who felt like he failed Kodlak. Vincent could share that sentiment with him even if Vilkas had wished to bare it alone.

"Did you ever have to bury a Harbinger?"

Vilkas bit his lip and thought for a moment. "Kodlak had been the harbinger for twenty years. If we did, I was too young to remember. I was taught the ceremony when I entered the circle. I'm sure we would have taught it to you in time."

"Have you seen a lot of people pass?"

"More whelps, then people I had become close to." A few lovers had perished before. Vilkas didn't like talking about it much.

"What did you do to forget about it?"

"You never really forget."

Vincent huffed. "Not what I mean."

Vilkas almost cracked a smile. "I know what you mean." He pulled his two handed sword from his back and gestured toward the practice dummies with it. "I usually practice to ease my mind."

"Leave it you." Vincent rolled his eyes.

"It helps." Well, it helped Vilkas anyway. He was a warrior after all.

"…Really?"

"Aye. Have you ever used a sword before?" He knew Vincent used a mace but he wasn't sure if he had ever used a blade.

"I've used regular sized blades before. Cadrian called the mace a _'wizard's companion,'_ so we didn't do much sword training." He sighed. "I've never used a two-handed blade."

"Do you want to try?"

"…I'm not even sure how to hold that properly."

"Well come here. I will show you."

Vincent made his way over and stood in front of Vilkas. Vilkas gently turned him around and moved his arms around him. He held the sword in front of Vincent.

"Put your hands, where my hands are….but take your gloves off first."

Vincent slowly did as he was told. He pulled off his leather gloves and pocked them. Then he put his marred hands over Vilkas' bare ones. "Like this?"

"Aye. Just like that." Vilkas hid his nose in those red tresses and shut his eyes. He took in that fiery scent and sighed. Vincent had sacrificed so much, and still carried a curse within his soul. Vilkas had never realized how alike they were. Did it really take so much for him to finally understand?

"It's heavy."

"I'm still the one supporting its weight."

"I can feel it though. If you let go, I'll drop it."

"It takes practice and patience to learn to wield this blade. I sometimes train others who wish to wield two-handed blades and hammers."

"Is this really what you do to calm down?"

"Aye. It is all I have."

"No…It isn't Vilkas." Vilkas peered down at the redhead and saw that Vincent had turned his head to try and look up at him. "If you want, you have me…If you still want me."

"I didn't have you before."

"You do now. You always have. I'm sorry it just took me so long."

Vilkas bent to meet Vincent's lips. The kiss they had shared after the telling of Vincent's story was nothing like this one. The one before had been a kiss of understanding. This one was a kiss of longing. It was one that was long due.

Vincent's hands slipped from the blade so he could turn in Vilkas' arms and press against him. His arms then threw themselves around Vilkas' neck before resuming their passionate lip lock in the courtyard. It warmed Vilkas with the comfort needed, more so then any sword training could have done. Slowly, his own hands slipped from his sword and fell to the ground at their feet.

It fell with a dull _'thunk'_ but neither man stopped to look. All the sorrow, all the anger and worry Vilkas seemed to have faded away by the warmth of Vincent's inner fire. It was a comfort that may have been inappropriate at the moment but they both desperately needed it.

They both went inside without a word between them and they left Vilkas' sword on the ground.


	18. One step closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's okay to be upset." the mage nodded. "But we can't change the past now. We learn from it and we carry on. Kodlak would not want you to feel guilty. Neither would I. If it's anything that brief moment I was able to speak with Grace taught me…it was that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sexy-times

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Vilkas wasn't even sure how they had gotten here. He wasn't even sure what had got them to this point. He remembered kissing Vincent in the courtyard, gentle at first but the longing had moved in quickly like a tidal wave. They somehow got inside and kissed some more…but it had been more feverish and desperate. Vilkas didn't even remember coming down the stairs and stumbling into his room with the redhead. Yet…here they were…on Vilkas' bed, kissing and rubbing together like foolish teenagers.

Even fully clothed, the friction of Vincent's body moving atop his was enough pleasure to make figuring this out a hell of a lot harder. Whether or not anyone was still here, Kodlak's recent passing, Vincent's horrific past and the men coming after him… all suddenly seemed…unimportant.

That thought stopped Vilkas suddenly from his molestation of the redhead's pretty mouth. His head fell back to his pillow and he stared blankly at the ceiling. Why couldn't he just give in and stop thinking like a normal person did when it came to sex?!

"Vilkas…?" Vincent looked down at him, slightly breathless. His lips were slightly bruised from their continued lip lock and there was the softest tinge of red on his cheeks. Vilkas thought he looked so beautiful at that moment and couldn't help but wonder if that look would change if his eyes were blue, instead of copper.

Vilkas let out a half-groan in response and turned his head aside. He really wanted to kiss Vincent again… but the guilt of thinking such thoughts was getting to him. Why couldn't he just focus on the way Vincent was straddling his hips and the feel of Vincent's marred hands touching his skin? Why did he have to think of such things at a time like this? His wolf was also alarmingly silent. Normally, it'd be chomping at the bit and demanding to be let out or for Vilkas to finally claim his mate at long last….

But…it was silent. Somewhere deep inside Vilkas, that unnerved him. He knew the wolf was still there…He could feel it there. Why was it being so quiet…?

"Vilkas."

Vilkas snapped his head back to attention. "Aye…?"

Vincent looked a bit worried and shifted his weight slightly. Vilkas bit back a groan as he did. Vincent was over a very sensitive area right now!

"Am I…is this alright?"

Vilkas sighed. "I don't know. I want it to be."

"I do too." The redhead seemed to almost tremble in his lap. "You just suddenly seemed so distant. Like I was about to lose you."

"No. I was…just thinking."

"About…?"

Vilkas sighed and reached up to rub Vincent's leg. "I feel…guilt for lots of things. I know now isn't the best time to be thinking about them." _'I have to remember….before you make me forget.'_

"We all feel guilt, Vilkas." Vincent didn't seem to mind the hand on his leg and tried smiling reassuringly. "You think I don't after everything that's happened?"

"No…I know you do."

"It's okay to be upset." the mage nodded. "But we can't change the past now. We learn from it and we carry on. Kodlak would not want you to feel guilty. Neither would I. If it's anything that brief moment I was able to speak with Grace taught me…it was that."

Vilkas cracked a small ghost of a smile. "Aye."

"Now…" The redhead backed up, rubbing _righhhhht_ against Vilkas' crotch… (Intentionally or unintentionally…)…and making the Nord's legs twitch. He then sat between Vilkas' legs and smiled coyly at the taller man. "How about you take your armor off…?"

Vilkas sat up slightly, about to protest but that slightly hazy look Vincent shot his way made him change his mind. That smile had turned from coy to seductive in a single moment and made Vilkas swallow thickly. He guessed the mood hadn't been killed after all. It was a good thing, he supposed. He really did want him. Gods, did he _REALLY_ want him.

"Fine…but you have to take off something too." Vilkas kept his voice strong and steady. Better the mage take it off himself, before Vilkas ripped it off him in his eagerness.

"I do believe I can settle for that deal."

Vilkas pulled at the straps on his armor and loosened it until it fell away. He remembered suddenly that he had left his sword laying out in the yard but there was no way he was going back to get it now. He slid his legs over the side of the bed and stood for a moment so he could pull at the bottom half of his armor. He took his boots off while he was at it as well as the loose shirt he usually wore underneath. He left his pants on however. He glanced down once his armor was removed and saw the tent forming in his pants rapidly. Just a few kisses and he was already hard?! He wasn't sure why, but he did feel slightly awkward. Almost like he was a virgin again…

When he turned back, Vincent had removed almost as much. His coat had been removed, folded and set aside gently. The vest he wore had also been removed as well as his own shoes. His white shirt had been undone but not removed. He sat cross-legged on Vilkas' bed, having finished disrobing as much as he was going to and had apparently been watching Vilkas undress.

That wasn't really fair….

Vilkas scowled and half-heartedly glared at the mage. Vincent answered the glare with a small laugh and patted the side of the bed to signal Vilkas to sit back down. Vilkas took the seat offered and noted how Vincent's eyes seemed glued to him. It was painfully obvious that Vilkas was erect and he knew Vincent had seen. When he sat down, he felt some of the embarrassment ebb away.

"You still have your battle paint on."

Vilkas blinked and touched right under his eye. "Aye…I honestly don't notice most of the time."

He felt Vincent shift closer and he tried not to tense as that fiery smell got closer. Not because he didn't like it…That attraction…that magnetism…was almost too much to bear. Vincent moved and sat in Vilkas' lap so Vilkas would be forced to face him now. Vilkas managed to bite back the groan that threatened to erupt from his throat when Vincent sat in _Jussst_ the right spot.

Vincent's arms wrapped around Vilkas' neck, much like they had in the courtyard and he leaned in to connect their lips without a word. Vilkas met him halfway. Vilkas' hands slowly threaded into the mage's crimson red tresses and pulled lightly as their kiss deepened. He got an appreciative, muffled moan from the redhead and the slightest bucking of his hips that did nothing but drive Vilkas mad.

Their kiss was anything but innocent. Desperate, hot, and passionate. Vilkas knew his wolf had stirred and was somewhere watching. Why it had not pushed itself toward the surface while Vilkas' defenses were lowered, was all but a mystery. He couldn't take the time to locate it. All he cared about was that warm delicious mouth and those oh-so-talented hips rocking against his.

Vincent pulled back slightly so he could run his tongue along Vilkas' bottom lip. It seems like he also took the opportunity to get air into his lungs. Vilkas inhaled deeply, unaware how long he had been holding his breath. They locked eyes and a moment of silence passed between them. There was no sound in the room other than the sound of their harsh breathing.

Vincent's eyes…may not be the color they are supposed to be, but Vilkas could still see that his eyes shone like someone who had found the love of their life. He had truly suffered to get to where he is, and he was much stronger then Vilkas ever gave him credit for. Vilkas was unsure if even he would be strong enough to feel love if he had gone through a similar hell.

But Vincent had found someway to love him…and that was more than enough for Vilkas.

A quick peck on the lips from Vincent ended the silence swiftly. He chuckled and toyed with the hair on Vilkas' nape. "Thinking again…?"

Vilkas cracked a smile and slid his hands down from Vincent's hair to his back. "Aye. I need to stop doing that."

"Aye, you do." Vincent spoke, attempting to mimic Vilkas' accent and doing a rather poor job of it.

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Listen…answer me something?"

"Alright."

"Do you…" It was REALLY killing him to ask this. "..Want this? I want to make sure…because if we start I don't think I'll be able to stop myself this time."

"Well…I…yes. Yes. I want to."

"…Are you sure…?"

Vincent faltered for a moment and Vilkas could have sworn he saw the tiniest glint of fear in Vincent's eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had come though and Vincent was smiling and nodding.

"Yes. I'm sure."

This may be a mistake but… "I'm not Cadrian."

"…W-What…?"

"You're scared…even a little bit right?"

Vincent grew silent. His arms resting on Vilkas' shoulders had slumped slightly but not fallen. He took in a deep shaky breath and focused his gaze on the center of Vilkas chest. "A little yes…Within good reason."

"Don't be…I know I have no right to say that but…I won't hurt you. I'm not Cadrian."

"Threatening rape is almost as bad as actually committing the deed." Vincent leaned in and rested his cheek against the crook of Vilkas' neck. "I am scared a little but I know you're not such a vile man." Vilkas could feel Vincent smiling against his skin. "I want to be with you in every way. I'd have to get over this eventually and while I'm still in the mood it might as well be now."

"You're still in the mood after that?" Vilkas almost felt like laughing. Almost.

"You're still poking me…so you're one to talk." Vincent rocked his hips to prove his point. Vilkas let out a low growl and saw a shudder run through the mage's body. That shiver…was not in fear at all. Although he knew the mage liked the sound of those low husky growls…

"Are you certain then…?" he really wouldn't be able to stop. This was Vincent's last chance.

Vincent's arms no longer slumped and instead moved up to grab hold of Vilkas' hair. His fingers tightened in his ebony locks but did not pull. "Yes." He spoke without hesitation. "I want you."

Vilkas felt his body fire up at Vincent's words. In a flash, his mouth was pressed roughly against Vincent's and they had pressed so close that no space was between them. All the tension between them slowly ebbed away and was replaced with a feeling of intense belonging. Vincent belonged here with him, and Gods be damned, he'd stay here. He wouldn't let anyone take him away now. Not now. Not ever.

Vilkas let his body fall flat, back against his bed and kept the mage atop him. It was similar of the position they had started in. Vilkas really had no complaint about this. Having the mage ride him would be a quick way to make Vilkas come undone. It had been at least five years since he last had sex and he had no idea how long it's been for Vincent.

He let his hands roam under Vincent's loose shirt and caress his soft back. His skin was warm under Vilkas touch and oddly addicting. He did feel small, old scars as his fingers danced along Vincent's skin. Probably from Cadrian's beatings. He almost growled angrily against Vincent's mouth when he felt a particularly large jagged one near the base of Vincent's spine. He swore to the Gods he'd kill that man, and his little fucking demon of an apprentice.

Vincent's hands were not idle, by any means. His hands moved down from Vilkas' hair to trail over his neck and shoulders. His pretty marred hands fell to Vilkas' chest and gently caressed his chest hair before gently brushing over his nipples. Vilkas felt his own body slightly shake, and his cock throbbed painfully in his pants.

Vincent let out a soft, _"ooh."_ and smiled as he felt the obvious twitch against his thigh. Damn that coy smile. Vilkas scowled and flipped them over, so he was on top of the mage. His hands went to Vincent's belt in an attempt to rid him of it and he bent to kiss the scar on Vincent's throat. His mate mark… That night seemed like a distant memory.

He heard Vincent mewl under the touch of his mouth. It ignited a fire in the pit of Vilkas' stomach that burned hotter than any flame could. He threw Vincent's belt aside and quickly grabbed the hem of Vincent's trousers and pulled them off in one swift motion. He didn't hear a rip sound so he supposed that was a good thing. He really didn't need to rip Vincent's pants off, literately.

He gave the mark one last, long lick before pulling back to take in the sight of his beloved. Vilkas had thought that only the fairest of the elven kind had such fair skin and smooth limbs. Then again, Bretons were half-elves in their own right. He ran a callused hand up Vincent's snow white leg before resting it on his inner thigh. His hand was an utter contrast the milky color of Vincent's skin. Yes, he was a Nord and Nords were usually pale…but Vilkas had been tanned slightly from hard training in the noon day sun. True, he was not as dark skinned as the palest Redguard but Vincent made him appear dark in comparison.

Vincent's marred hand reach down and grabbed the hand that Vilkas had kept on Vincent's thigh. He pulled Vilkas' hand up his torso, over his neck and finally against his face. Vilkas' blue eyes widened slightly when Vincent drew the pad of Vilkas' thumb against his lips and let his tongue peek out to caress the digit gently.

Vilkas felt his cock give another twitch in protest. It was aching…begging to be touched or sheathed in something warm soon. He did not however…want to hurt Vincent in his eagerness…now matter how cute and utterly edible he was being currently.

He tore his eyes away from that gorgeous sight and glanced around his room. He didn't appear to have anything available he could use as lubricant on hand at the moment… He really didn't want to use his spit but beggars couldn't be choosers. His eyes then fell on Vincent's bag. Maybe the mage had something?

"Vincent…?"

"Hum?" Vilkas felt Vincent's tongue gently caress the pad of his index finger before taking the whole digit into his mouth.

Vilkas shivered and bit his lip. Way to tempt him to just forgo the lubrication but he wanted his first time with Vincent to be pleasurable for both of them. He wanted as little discomfort as possible. He'd only stooped to being penetrated once, and he had not enjoyed the experience. The whelp he'd chosen had demanded to be dominate in bed. Vilkas had relented, though somewhat reluctantly. He'd regretted it. The Whelp had used spit as lubrication and hardly prepared Vilkas at all. It had been…unpleasant.

"Do you have anything we could use for lubrication?"

Vincent let Vilkas' finger pop out of his mouth with a soft pop and sat up slightly. "What?"

Vilkas took his hand back before he became tempted again. "Is there anything in your bag we could use? I don't want to hurt you."

Vincent blinked and looked…confused for a moment. "Lubrication…" He muttered as if he'd never heard of the word. "Right…to ease the discomfort. Yes. Right." he nodded. "I may have some salve we can use in my bag. It's water-based and should serve."

"…Vincent…?"

"Yes?"

"You sound like you're reading from a book." He looked into those pretty copper eyes. "Have you ever…done this before?"

A small red tinge formed its way onto Vincent's face and he pouted. He said nothing and crossed his arms.

It hit Vilkas suddenly like a stone wall. "Are you a virgin…?" He chuckled lowly. He didn't know why it seemed funny but he couldn't hold back.

Vincent huffed. "What if I am? Stop laughing at me."

"I just find it…unusual."

"Unusual? How so?"

"I pretty sure you've seen a looking glass, Vincent. What man wouldn't want you?"

"Who says I wanted any man? Or any woman for that matter?" He got up, slung the shirt from his form and padded over to his knapsack. Vilkas' eyes followed every movement of his soon-to-be lover's nude form. He could see faint scars, marring the perfection of his snow white skin. He reached inside and tossed a small clear bottle to Vilkas. Vilkas caught it easily and watched Vincent walk back over. "You're my first kiss too."

"Now that, I don't believe." Vilkas uncapped it and took a whiff of what was in the bottle. It smelt slightly like powder. It was clear like water though and if not for the smell, Vilkas would have been none the wiser.

"It's true." Vincent laid back down and put a pillow under his head. "You're the first that I've kissed and you'll be the first I lay with. Is that a problem?"

"No. I was just surprised." Vilkas was actually secretly pleased by this knowledge. "Do you know how this is done then?"

"Yes. I know how… I've read it in a few books."

"What kind of books are you reading?"

"It was merely study, I assure you." Vincent's smile turned coy again.

"You know how then."

"In theory. Yes."

"I'll be gentle with my preparation."

"I'm not made of glass Vilkas." Vincent put one of his legs over Vilkas' lap and the other arched up to give Vilkas access to the most private parts of him. "I'm accustomed to large amounts of physical pain. I'm sure I can handle your fingers."

Vilkas wasn't in the mood to argue with him. He'd still be careful with his preparation and make sure he's loosened him well before proceeding…but at least he didn't have to be completely gentle. If having sex wasn't at least slightly rough, it really wasn't fun… Again he was reminded that his mate had a pair of balls on him.

He poured the salve on three of his fingers and shifted his weight to get better access. Vincent spread his legs more for him and did so without hesitation. Vilkas swallowed the lump forming in his throat and placed his free hand on Vincent's stomach. His rough hand slid down to touch the most intimate parts of him. He felt Vincent take in a sudden breath and trembled slightly under his touch.

He wrapped his hand around Vincent's semi-erect manhood. It pulsed and stiffened further in his touch. He stroked him gently at first and then he picked up a nice rhythm that he'd use when touching himself. Vincent mewled, and his legs stiffened in Vilkas' grasp. Slowly, Vilkas pressed his finger against the mage's opening and prodded the tight ring of muscle.

He kept stroking in an effort to distract Vincent from the upcoming discomfort. The contented sigh seemed like a good enough reason to proceed. He stopped teasing his entrance and slowly pushed his digit inside. Vilkas almost growled out loud at how tight Vincent was. Vincent's walls instantly squeezed his finger as if trying to remove the obstruction. He was so…tight. Vilkas needed Vincent to start to relax before he continued. If he kept tensing like that, this could become rather painful.

"Does it hurt…?" Vilkas' voice came out husker then usual.

"A-a little-e…"

"I need you to relax. Don't tense up."

Vincent half gasped and half scoffed. "Easy f-for you to say…"

"You are squeezing too tightly…I can't move." He let the words leave his lips, accompanied by a husky growl. He watched Vincent shiver and twitch at the sound. "Relax a little for me, aye?"

Vincent nodded and breathed in deeply. Vilkas soon felt the passages that clenched his finger, begin to loosen. It was still almost unbearably tight but then again, he was prepping a virgin. He was finally able to move his finger and started to work it in and out of the mage. One finger wasn't going to cut it. Vilkas would have to add three fingers at least….and even then it would be a tight fit. He would need to stretch him well in order to accommodate something much bigger and thicker then his fingers.

Vincent said he could take it…Vilkas really hoped that was true.

He slowly pressed a second finger in along side the first. The salve helped but it was still not a seamless transition. He felt Vincent tense around his fingers for a moment before remembering that he was supposed to be relaxing. Vilkas started moving his fingers despite the obvious discomfort of his mate. If he didn't get this going they would be there all night…that and he trusted Vincent to speak up if it was really unbearable.

He spread his fingers apart, trying to widen his pulsing entrance. He repeated the motions and glanced up at Vincent to see how he was holding up. Vincent had his bottom lip caught in his teeth and his eyes were squeezed shut in slight pain.

"Vincent…"

Those copper eyes opened and met Vilkas' icy blue ones. Yes, he was in pain. That was obvious but those eyes were dark and hazy still, thick with lust and arousal. He still wanted this…he still wanted Vilkas. It gave him the courage to carry on.

Vilkas spread and thrust his fingers slowly, trying to make room for things to come. All the while, his fingers were searching for a spot he knew of. He knew if he found it, some of the pain would melt away and make this whole process much easier. He twisted his fingers with some difficulty in that hot, tight space and hooked them up. He found that warm spot inside, and pressed his fingers against it as a test. He heard Vincent gasp and not in pain. Vilkas smiled to himself and jabbed that spot with a bit more force.

"A-ah..!"

"Better?" Vilkas growled and gave Vincent's manhood a squeeze before letting his hand fall away so he could hook one of those pale legs higher. He eyed Vincent, who was unable to speak and clinging to the sheets beneath him for dear life. His pretty mouth hung open and his copper eyes were wide open in surprise.

He jabbed that spot again and watched Vincent's face turn progressively more red. His eyelashes fluttered and a low moan emitted from his throat. Vilkas hooked his leg up even farther, keeping Vincent's knee hooked over his shoulder. He could now get his fingers in much deeper and pressed his fingers constantly into that sensitive bud, over and over.

Vincent's leg trembled in his grasp and sounds more beautiful than any bard's music, emitted from his pretty mouth. Vilkas slipped in a third finger and to his relief, Vincent didn't seem to even notice. Vincent's cock was thick and swollen now, resting heavily against his stomach. The subtle twitches of his body told Vilkas many things. The constant prodding of Vincent's prostate had brought the mage very close to his limit.

Vilkas turned his head slightly to give Vincent's calf a long lick. Vincent's reactions were expected. He'd never been touched in such an intimate manner, and it gave Vilkas pride to know that he was the first to make him writhe in pleasure.

Vilkas withdrew his fingers with a sigh. He didn't want this ending too soon, so he supposed this would be good enough. He'd been a paragon of patience but even that was coming to an end. His own erection was aching and leaving a damp spot in the front of his pants. He put his hand under the top of his waistband and pulled it down to let his manhood free from its confines.

Vincent whimpered when the fingers were removed. "Vilkasss…"

That whine was quite adorable and Vilkas couldn't hide the small grin that came to his face. He shh'ed him poured more of the salve on his aching cock. He then grabbed Vincent's leg and turned it so the mage would be forced to turn on his stomach.

"Vilkas…?"

"It's easier this way for your first time." Vilkas breathed hotly and grabbed Vincent's hips and pulling them up. It was not the most loving and intimate position but it would be the easiest on Vincent's body. He placed himself at his entrance and slowly coaxed the head of his erection inside the tight opening.

He had planned to go slow and gentle, then rock into a harder rhythm…but apparently Vincent had other plans. Vincent had grunted in displeasure at Vilkas' slow inch inside. He spread his legs and pushed back on Vilkas' manhood, shoving it almost fully inside him. The sudden pressure and tight heat made Vilkas groan and his head spun in dizzying pleasure.

Before he could scold Vincent, he suddenly heard it. That low growl…that didn't come from his mouth. It came from inside him… His every nerve was suddenly on fire and he gripped Vincent's hips roughly. His human instincts began to fade slowly and replaced themselves with raw, natural instinct. After being silent for so long, it was going to press against Vilkas' will now!?

He pushed the rest of the way in and listened to the gasps of his mate. He instantly pulled all the way out and entered him again. It was more rough then he would have wanted to start but for some reason he couldn't convince his brain that. By some small amount of remaining self control, he stopped himself from just thrusting away with no pace. His thrust were hard and fast but at least they had a set pace.

"Impatient…" Vilkas growled and griped his hips tighter.

He heard Vincent chuckle between mewls. "I-If I didn't get you going-g…we w-would have never s-started."

"Shut it." He reached down and grabbed a fist full of that crimson red hair and tugged back, making Vincent's back arch. The pleasured cry he got was a satisfying reward. He must have hit something really nice inside….either that or Vincent was a masochist. He kept Vincent in that position and resumed thrusting at that spot. The reactions he received made him think it might have been a bit of both.

Vilkas shut his eyes and just kept up his pace. His wolf was speaking darkly in his ear, growling, begging, demanding… He wouldn't give in to this. He just wanted to focus on making Vincent's first time with him feel good… Why did he have to deal with this too? He decided to try shutting it out and just focus on his mate. The growling got louder at the lack of attention but Vilkas chose to ignore it like one ignores the slight ringing in their ears.

A hand on his drew his attention. Vincent was peering over his shoulder at him with that cute blushing face of his.

"C-Can I…ah…face y-you?"

Vilkas stopped thrusting and nodded. "Aye. If that's what you want."

Vincent nodded, so Vilkas slowly pulled out of him. He bit back the groan of displeasure and waited for Vincent to get settled. He promptly ignored the angry growl from his wolf, who demanded he take control and mount him again. Vincent shakily, turned over so he could face Vilkas and hoisted his legs up slightly as an invitation. At least Vilkas didn't need to ask if he liked this or not. Vilkas moved between them and slid back in with no difficulty. The warmth of his mate was appreciated.

Vilkas instantly angled his hips so he could strike that spot he had found earlier. He wished he could drag this out but unfortunately he felt like he couldn't last too much longer himself. Vincent looked ready to burst as it was and it must have been some kind of miracle that kept the mage holding on.

The startled gasp and slight widening of Vincent's eyes, told Vilkas he had found it again. Vilkas leaned in to press their bodies together and tangled a hand in Vincent's crimson red hair. His other hand kept Vincent's hips at that particular angle. Vincent's own hand raised to grab Vilkas' head and push their lips together. To this, Vilkas had no complaint.

Vilkas felt Vincent's body suddenly tense up and tighten. He was so close now. The tightening had almost made Vilkas lose it but he growled against Vincent's mouth and held back the oncoming wave. His hand slid out of Vincent's hair and moved between their torso's so he could touch the neglected mage's manhood.

The slightest touch made Vincent spasm and twitch. He was coming, hard and fast. His body suddenly clenched Vilkas' dick like a vice and he came between them. Vilkas pulled his mouth away so he could hear Vincent's cries and with a low groan finished himself. His hips bucked twice as he spilled himself inside the mage. He felt exhausted and Vincent appeared the same. His body was still twitching and his eyes were closed. He was breathing hard, like he'd just run cross country and his hands fell uselessly to the side.

Vilkas caressed Vincent's cheek gently and kissed his mouth again. It was a side of Vilkas that no one ever really witnessed often. Vincent's eyes fluttered open for a minute and Vilkas stopped all movement. His eyes widened slightly when he saw those eyes were shockingly blue for the briefest of moments before fading back to their original copper. Then Vincent's eyes closed again and he weakly kissed Vilkas back.

"Rest, okay? I'm going to clean this up." He slowly pulled out of Vincent, hearing the mage gasp when he was clear. He instantly tucked himself back inside his pants, already missing the heat of his mate.

Vincent nodded weakly and turned on his side. He must really be tired. Vilkas hadn't really given him a chance to rest since he came back from his mission. Now with this…he must be really exhausted. Vilkas stood up and pulled the covers over Vincent's nude form then made himself presentable before venturing out of his room.

He headed for the washroom quietly. He heard no noise from within Jorrvaskr's walls…everyone must still be out. He smiled despite himself. They'd finally done it. From hatred, to awkward crushes, to love, to being lovers….it seems like they had come a long way but it had only been half a year since they met. Vilkas prayed things would get easier now…although with Vincent's hunters looming about, he knew in reality things would probably only get harder.

For the longest time Vilkas had been fighting for certain things. He fought for honor, glory and most importantly himself. None of those things seemed to matter so much now…He'd fight for Vincent and that was most important. He'd never let Cadrian or Daric take him. He belonged here, in Jorrvaskr with the rest of the companions and at Vilkas' side.

Vincent was his now…and he wasn't letting go. He'd never let go for as long as Vincent wanted him. He padded through the halls in a good mood for once. He was even able to ignore the contented and possessive growl of his wolf.


	19. The One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "the road to power is paved in the bodies of friends and family. All expendable. All worthless. All things I am willing to dispose of. This knowledge is not a surprise to you Vincent. You know this about me, so why bother stating that I 'have no heart?'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Asshole!MasterVampire and some mind games

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Vincent felt like he'd been kicked in the gut over and over. He took in breath and felt his ribs ache. They felt broken… He was on some kind of stone floor. It was dark around him and his senses were failing him. He moved his hand to weakly palm his side through his clothes. Although his ribs hurt like they had been broken, Vincent found them in place and unharmed.

"Vincent…"

He groaned softly, just barely hearing his name. He moved his legs in a weak attempt to get to his feet but he ended up just flailing slightly on the floor. He felt like he was being stabbed in the stomach with a hot poker. That was talent he supposed…seeing as he hasn't felt actual hot or cold in nine years.

"Vincent…? Baby…?"

Was that…? His ears perked slightly and he wiggled about on the floor again. That sounded like his mother. He strained his eyes, looking around in the darkness and seeing nothing. He wanted to call out to her but he felt foolish at the thought. She'd been dead for years…Then again, weirder things had happened.

"Vincent."

Her voice was suddenly so close and so clear that Vincent's body tensed. He blinked and suddenly there she was. She stood in front of him, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw her. She was looking down at him with her kind, understanding blue eyes and smiled a loving smile.

"…Mom?"

"What are you doing on the floor, silly boy? Come on, get up."

The pain seemed to fade at her words and he found no trouble getting to his feet. Odd… He eyed her suspiciously. Something wasn't right…

"Why are you starring at me, son? Come on now. I need help getting dinner ready. Your father and Grace will be home soon."

"Father…and Grace?"

"That's right. They are out on the boat. Your father said he'd bring us home lots of fish and he took Grace with him for the experience." She giggled. "so cute."

Vincent glanced down at himself and found he was dressed in his usual attire…that included the coat that Grace had made for him. She made this coat when they were orphaned… He glanced back up at his mother, who was waiting patiently.

"Dad died when I was young. I don't even remember him."

She frowned. "What are you talking about? He didn't die, Vincent! What a horrible thing to say!" She tutted. "Knock off that insensible behavior and come help me make dinner."

It hit him suddenly, and Vincent scowled deeply. "No."

"Excuse me? Vincent Renalt, don't you dare say no to your mother like that!"

"You're not my mom. You're not even real."

All expression suddenly faded from her face and she adopted a porcelain doll demeanor. Her full lips opened and closed as if she was repeating a silent mantra to herself before her head cracked violently and disturbingly to the side. A grin cracked through her doll-like visage. Her words were horribly distorted and low. "You're no fun."

Instantly, Vincent's body exploded with pain and he toppled over. He fell to his knee's and grit in teeth. He was determined not to crawl into his normal fetal position and tried to hoist himself upright. The doll before him let out a high pitched cackle before crumbling to dust.

"Good morning, my little spitfire."

Vincent bolted up from the floor and cringed as searing hot pain exploded in his body. His vision blurred and swayed but he forced himself to stay conscious. He was here! He was close!

"you've been busy, I see."

Vincent whirled around to see Cadrian sitting in a chair behind him. He hadn't been there a moment before, but now the vampire sat calmly as if nothing was amiss. A small light shined from above but Vincent could tell by the color it was not sunlight.

"You seem surprised." Cadrian folded his hands over his knee and smiled fondly at Vincent as if they were father and son, long apart and now reunited. "did you honestly think I would not find you?"

"That was low, Cadrian…" Vincent coughed and grit himself against the pain. "How did you even know what my mother looked like!?"

Cadrian shrugged. "I have my ways. Now…tell me…DID you…honestly think…I would not find you?" Cadrian punctuated each word as if he was speaking to a child.

Vincent swayed slightly in place. He was caught between the instinct to fight or flee. Every breath was a pained labor so he stayed put and grit his teeth. "No…"

"No…? No what? I know it must be hard for you, but try to use your words, my dear."

"I knew you would." Vincent snapped through his grit teeth.

"So angry…relax my boy, and have a seat."

Vincent suddenly felt something bump against his leg and he glanced down to see a small wooden chair had appeared beside him. "I'm okay…standing…"

"No really. I insist. We will have a wonderful talk as soon as you sit down."

Vincent eyed him warily but took the seat. He couldn't feel the normal weight of his mace within his coat and he had no idea where he was. The last he remembered he was with Vilkas doing…things… Oh Vilkas…Where were you?

"Thinking of your friend?"

Vincent snapped back to Cadrian and scowled. "Leave me alone."

"You know I'll never do that, silly boy." He waved a hand nonchalantly. "but do tell me who you are thinking of."

"None of your business."

"Your business is my business. Tell me who you cherish most, Vincent…" He grinned and without missing a beat said, "…So I can have the pleasure of ripping them apart."

"Daric." Vincent spoke, crossing his arms. The pain was still lingering but it was not as intense as before. "I cherish him. Tear him apart."

"oh, you are not even trying to lie…although I am sure that Daric would be pleased to hear that you cherished him…lie or not." He sighed but still smiled. "It's not worth protecting filth."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"don't play coy with me, boy. I've kept an eye on you through my network. You couldn't have run to a different part of Nirn? I despise Skyrim. It's too cold here and the people are barbaric."

"I ran out of places to run." Vincent spat at him distastefully.

"I do love how you scurry away like a frightened rabbit." He eyed Vincent with a sharp, red eyed stare. "Where will you scurry off too next, little rabbit?"

"I'm…not going anywhere."

Vincent knew only a few things rendered Cadrian silent. Surprise and anger. He was guessing this was surprise.

"Come again?" Cadrian asked after a moment.

"I'm not running anymore."

"Ah…well…good. It has been a long time and although the chase has been fun, I am glad you are finally giving up. I've miss-"

"No."

"…no?" He asked again, sounding amused.

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm going to kill you for what you've done."

Cadrian cocked his head to the side curiously. "kill me? Oh my."

"you're mocking me."

"I am." he clapped his hands. "I know you are an idiot, my dove, but I am pleased to see you are not completely hopeless. You do realize how futile this all is right? I always chase, I always catch and I will always get what I want."

"You didn't get your sister."

Vincent was guessing that silence was anger. "speechless?"

"I could come up with something cheeky, like mocking how you failed your own but that would require her to really be your sister."

"She WAS my sister."

"Was she?"

Vincent scowled deeper if possible and stood up abruptly. He ignored the hash pain that shot up his spine. "Shut. Up."

"Oh yes, Vincent my love. Lash out. It is what you do best. Lash out and hurt the feelings of the ones who love you most."

"You don't have feelings." Vincent scoffed. "You don't even have a heart. You don't care about anyone other then yourself!"

"So true." He shrugged. "the road to power is paved in the bodies of friends and family. All expendable. All worthless. All things I am willing to dispose of. This knowledge is not a surprise to you Vincent. You know this about me, so why bother stating that I _'have no heart?'"_

"You'd dispose of Daric too?"

"If needed. Yes. He is useful, currently. That and I don't mind his company."

"You disgust me."

Cadrian laughed and shook his head. "You look so much like my sister. She told me that once….with that same look. Ah, but we are getting off topic, aren't we? So, how is Vilkas? That is his name right? Vilkas?"

Vincent swallowed the bile that started to rise in his throat. How could he be so foolish? How could he have thought that even for a second that Cadrian didn't know about Vilkas?!

"Ah, silence. that's fine. Enjoy your time with him Vincent, dear. Love. Have faith in him. It will make his death just that much more pleasurable to witness." he stood and walked over slowly, to loom over Vincent. "When I extinguish his small…pitiful…insignificant spark of life…I want to see you crumble inside. I want to see you broken, like I did the day that stupid little girl died."

"You won't break me." Vincent spoke and managed to keep his voice steady. He feared Cadrian, but he couldn't run anymore. He needed to stand tall and be a man. He wouldn't abandon the companions now. They needed him right now and he needed them. He needed Vilkas. "I'll kill you. I'll end this fear you spread like foul poison in the hearts of all men."

"Very poetic." Cadrian straightened out and folded his hands behind his back. "Enjoy the time you have left, my dear. I will see you soon."

"You're a liar…You'll send Daric to do it."

Cadrian laughed and easily strode away, not denying the claim. The space around Vincent began to fade and darkness started to sink in around him. He strangely had no fear and his pain faded at the encroaching darkness. He felt rooted on the spot and he could only glare at Cadrian's retreating visage.

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Vincent snapped awake at the gentle touch on his cheek. His eyes darted wildly before resting to the owner of the hand. Vilkas sat beside him and withdrew his hand once Vincent woke. Vilkas was in his normal attire and had apparently been sitting by his side for some time.

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"Only a few hours." Vilkas moved his hand back to Vincent's cheek and caressed it gently. "You seemed tired so I let you sleep."

"I wish you hadn't…" Vincent shifted slightly and realized that he was naked under the covers. The day's events came rushing back and he blushed slightly in embarrassment.

He heard Vilkas chuckle lowly at his embarrassment. "Bad dream?"

"Sort of." when Vilkas lifted an eyebrow, Vincent sighed. "Stupid mage power. Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me that. Explain." Vilkas scowled, his eyes narrowing in slight suspicion.

"It's…magic. Powerful ancient magic that allows two mages to communicate through dreams. A powerful mage can even simulate environment, physical pain and other significant properties." Vilkas gave him a look. "Yeah. Magic."

Vilkas huffed. "Magic…" He rolled his eyes. "I take it that it was Cadrian?"

"Yeah. He knows where I am but that's hardly a surprise." Vincent sat up in bed and instantly rested his head on Vilkas shoulder. He was actually relived when Vilkas' arms instantly wrapped around him and held him close.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Vincent cracked a smile against the cool metal of Vilkas' armor. "No. I'll be okay. I'll just take precautions to safe guard my mind in the future."

Vilkas huffed and muttered something foul and profane about magic under his breath, but rubbed Vincent's back soothingly. He really was just a big softy… Vincent just sighed and closed his eyes taking in wonderful musky smell of his lover. He was almost giddy at the thought. They were lovers now…

He'd never imagined ending up with a guy like Vilkas. Then again, he'd never taken the time to fully think about it. With a crazed psycho vampire chasing him around Nirn, he really didn't have the opportunity to think of loving someone. Even before…he'd been so occupied taking care of Grace and doing what he thought was best for her, that he hadn't seen anyone or anything...save for Frey but his friend had been just that. Only a friend.

He'd read about love in books but he didn't think he'd ever find it himself. Who would want such damaged goods? Vilkas, apparently. He felt Vilkas' hand massage his nape gently and it made him coo slightly. He shut his eyes against the feeling and hugged Vilkas tighter. He felt…safe…for the first time in a long time. Even though he'd had a rather disturbing encounter with Cadrian in the blackness of his dreams, he still felt safe. He almost felt like Cadrian wouldn't be able to get him as long as he stayed in Vilkas' arms. Almost…

"How are your hips? Are you alright?"

Vincent blinked, coming back to reality. "My…hips? Oh!" He suddenly felt embarrassed again. "I'm fine. I heal quickly as you know…I shouldn't even limp."

"That's…good." Vincent couldn't see his face from his position but he knew Vilkas was hesitating. He pulled away from their embrace and Vilkas let him slide right out of it without a fight. Vilkas face was almost furiously blank. Great.

"Listen…I…" Vincent suddenly felt a bit awkward. "I'm sorry."

"…For?"

"I…err…well…" Vincent cleared his throat. "I'll do better next time…with the whole…sleeping together….thing."

It took Vilkas a moment but Vincent could tell he finally got it. He turned his head a muttered something about it _'being fine'._ there was the smallest red tinge to his cheeks and it made Vincent smile. Aw, he was blushing…

"Didn't you have to do something for Eorlund?"

Vincent almost slapped himself. "Yes…I did." he had to go through Kodlak's things. He wasn't looking forward to that.

"Only an hour or so later. I'm sure he won't mind. Do you want me to go with you?"

"No." in truth, he wanted Vilkas there, but he felt like he'd already held him up enough. "Aren't the others expecting you in the under forge?"

"Aye, but they are also expecting you. You are a member of the circle."

"I'm a big boy. I can manage on my own. A little ache in the hips isn't going to stop me."

"Aye. Alright."

Vincent clutched the bed sheets beneath him. He wanted to tell Vilkas so many things. He wanted to tell him everything that the taller, yet younger man meant to him. He'd read numerous romance novels and poems of romantic declaration and yet all seemed like empty words on pages now. All he could think of was, "I love you…is that okay?"

Vilkas' icy blue eyes flicked back in his direction before resolutely staring at the wall. "Aye."

"Do you love me back…?"

"..Aye."

Vincent's smile grew a bit more. "Can you say it?" He couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease Vilkas a little bit.

Vilkas paused for a moment and turned his eyes back to Vincent. Vincent's smile fell slightly. Vilkas seemed…different. Not in a bad way, per say…but…different. His embarrassment from the earlier situation seemed to have fled and replaced itself with an air of confidence. It was the same confidence that Vincent had seen Vilkas display in the heat of battle.

Vilkas got up from his seat and leaned over Vincent's sitting form. "Aye. I can." He cupped Vincent's chin and tilted it upwards. Vincent's eyes widened slightly as their gazes met head on. "I love you…" He practically purred in a husky, deep tone. "My heart belongs with you."

He then closed the gap between their mouths in a chaste yet incredibly, hot kiss. Vincent was completely dumbfounded and it must have shown on his face when Vilkas pulled away because he smiled in a slightly arrogant fashion. Vincent didn't think he could be more turned on at the moment. Then Vilkas pulled away and headed for the door. Vincent stared at his retreating form with his mouth slightly gaped open.

"I'll meet you in the under forge. Everyone is waiting for you so don't be long."

Then he was gone and Vincent was left in a state of confusion, disorientation, aggravation, and slight arousal. That…dick! He thrust the covers aside, grumbling to himself and stood up. Then instantly regretted that as pain shot up his spine. He sat back down quickly and rubbed his aching hips. Okay…maybe he over exaggerated when he said it didn't hurt…But he was a man, gods damnit! He might as well act like one!

Vincent took a deep breath and stood up again. The pain lessened, most likely thanks to his soul passenger. Vincent grumbled under his breath and looked around for his clothes. He'd folded his shirt, coat and vest nicely but Vilkas had practically ripped his pants off him. After a moment of searching, he found them on the floor near a chair. When he put them on, his hips ached something terrible, but he bore the pain well, and got them on.

The pain reminded him of his dream. There was apparently no low that Cadrian wouldn't stoop to. Then again, Vincent really shouldn't be surprised. As he finished dressing, Vincent decided he would not waste time dwelling on the encounter or anything he said. That's exactly what Cadrian would want. He would want Vincent panicking and worrying. Nope. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.

Vincent smoothed out his hair and looked himself over in a looking glass that he pulled out of his knapsack. He looked a bit ruffled and flustered but he supposed it was good enough. He did seem like he was glowing…his hormones had been kicked into overdrive due to his earlier sexual contact, and he smelt slightly of Vilkas and sex. He knew that Aela and Farkas would instantly pick up on it.

Damnit all…

He put the looking glass away and quickly rummaged through his bag to make sure he had enough potion ingredients to make more medicine. With what he'd gathered while he was out, he'd have enough for at least two months worth. At least there was that…

He left Vilkas room and made his way a short distance down the hall to Kodlak's room. He noted, with a slight sigh that he was slightly limping. The pain he felt was different…in a way he almost liked the sore feeling. It was unlike being beaten. That ache was terrible and kept him awake a night. This ache was from deep within and strangely left him feeling whole. Weird…but he could think of no other way to describe it.

He quietly walked into Kodlak's chambers, and glanced around carefully. Despite this being Kodlak's room, Vincent oddly felt as if he wasn't intruding. He still didn't want to go picking through a recently deceased persons things…but it seems he didn't have a choice. Gods he missed the old man already. He hadn't realized how close he'd become to everyone here until it was way too late. Thinking of Kodlak made him almost want to cry but he bit back the feeling of sorrow and remorse. He was here for a reason…and he'd mourn Kodlak properly once Cadrian was dead.

"Now…if I kept a blade piece close to me…where would I keep it…?" Vincent instantly thought under a pillow. Not everyone was that paranoid…Vincent had slept with a dagger under his pillow for five years…and sometimes he still wanted to. He checked under the pillows first and found nothing. That was kind of relieving…

He then checked the bedside table and two objects jumped out at him. The first was the blade piece and the second was an old leather bound journal with nothing illustrated on it. Vincent pocked the blade piece and then hesitated before picking the journal up. It really wasn't any of his business…but something in him screamed at him to read it.

Kodlak had left so many questions unanswered…Maybe in this…he could learn of the things unspoken? Vincent breathed in a shaky sigh and slowly flicked open the cover. He supposed there was no turning back now…

\------  
"The old man had one wish before he died and he didn't get it. It's as simple as that." Vilkas scowled, crossing his arms and almost glaring at Aela across from him. Farkas stood behind her and slightly off to the side, wanting nothing to do with this argument.

She crossed her arms right back and huffed. "Being moon-born is not so much of a curse as you might think, Vilkas."

Vilkas' scowl deepened. Why couldn't she just get it! "That's fine for you, but he wanted to be clean." He sighed. "He wanted to meet Ysgramor and know the glories of Sovngarde…but that was all taken from him."

"And you avenged him." She stated plainly.

"Kodlak did not care for Vengeance…" Farkas finally spoke up. Thank the Gods he did...Vilkas didn't want to think of what he'd done to the Silver Hand...

"No, Farkas, he didn't and that's not what this is about." Vilkas shot his brother a slightly approving look. "We should be honoring Kodlak, no matter our own thoughts on the blood."

Vilkas thought for a moment that Aela was going to fight him about it but she let out a low, defeated sigh. "You're right. It's what he wanted and he deserved to have it."

Vilkas uncrossed his arms and thought hard for a moment. "Kodlak used to speak of a way to cleanse his soul, even in death." he tapped his chin slightly, trying to remember. "You know the legends of the tomb of Ysgramor."

"There the souls of the Harbingers will heed the call of northern steel." Aela responded almost automatically. "We can't even enter the tomb without Wuuthrad and it's in pieces, like it has been for a thousand years."

"And Dragons were just stories and elves once ruled Skyrim." Eorlund spoke entering with Vilkas' redheaded mage in tow. Vilkas instantly swung in his direction. He was glad to see Vincent up and walking around…although he did appear to be limping, ever so slightly. It was almost too subtle to catch. His scent however....

Vilkas ended up crossing his arms again. His dreams told him Dragons were real…if he could believe every word and vision that were shown to him…and Elves did once rule Skyrim to his better knowledge…

"Just because something is, doesn't mean it must be." Eorlund continued, smiling smugly. "The blade is a weapon. A tool. Tools are meant to be broken and repaired."

It took Vilkas a minute…he'd been so preoccupied inspecting Vincent for discomfort that he had failed to notice the giant weapon on Eorlund's back. "Is that…? Did you repair the blade?"

"This is the first time I've had all the pieces, thanks to our shield brother here." He patted Vincent on the back and smiled when the mage squirmed slightly in embarrassment. Eorlund pulled the blade out and walked forward with Vincent close behind him. "The flames of a hero can reforge the shattered."

Vincent slowly scooted closer to Vilkas side and smiled up at him. Vilkas noticed slight discomfort in the mage's face and he didn't think it had anything to do with the mage's aching hips. Before he could ask his love what ailed him, Eorlund continued…

"The flames of Kodlak shall fuel the rebirth of Wuuthrad…and now it will take you to meet him once more." He then turned to Vincent. "As the one who bore the fragments, I think you should be the one to carry Wuuthrad into battle."

Vincent's copper eyes widened slightly. "I don't think I could even lift that."

"Nonsense." He handed over the heavy blade and Vilkas almost had to bite back an laugh when Vincent almost dropped it. Vincent rested it against the ground and held on to the handle. The sight was almost comical. "The rest of you prepare to journey to the tomb of Ysgramor. For Kodlak."

When he turned and left Farkas walked over and smiled softly at Vincent. "Want me to carry that for you?"

Vincent let out a soft sigh of relief. "Yes, please."

Aela laughed gently. "So, should he head out right away?"

Vilkas glanced down at Vincent and then back up at Aela. "The sooner we do this the better."

"Alright then. For Kodlak!"

"For Kodlak!" Vilkas and Farkas both spoke at the same time.

Farkas, Aela and Vilkas drew their weapons instantly. Vilkas felt Vincent tense beside him and pull out the ebony mace from his coat. Aela ran out first, followed closely by Farkas. Vilkas followed him and heard Vincent following closely behind. They practically stormed out of the gates of Whiterun and into the dead of night. The air was cold but refreshing and Vilkas couldn't help but feel…hopeful.

"What's going on?" Vincent asked, grabbing hold of Vilkas' arm but not slowing their pace.

"We are going to go free Kodlak." Vilkas smiled at the thought. Freedom…

"This tomb we're going to…where is it?"

"Far up north. I will guide you."

Vincent huffed. "We're walking the whole way, aren't we?"

"Aye."

"Greattt…"

Vilkas glanced down at the currently sour temper of the mage and chuckled lowly. "Want me to carry you?"

"No." He huffed. "I can walk."

"Hey! Keep up you two!" Aela yelled from in front, stopping near the stables to wait up for them. "we have a lot of ground to cover! Let's move it!"

Vincent smiled up at him despite it. "For Kodlak then?"

"For Kodlak." Vilkas confirmed softly and made sure Vincent had a good grip on his arm before following his circle mates on the path to freedom.


	20. Mean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's the cure?"
> 
> Vincent hesitated. "Well….the severed head of an old witch?"
> 
> "…."
> 
> "...."
> 
> "...."

\----  
\---  
\--

 

"So where is the tomb?" Vincent asked after about an hour of trekking through the woods. He'd still had a hold on Vilkas' arm and it made keeping pace with everyone else much easier. The snow was falling around them but it was luckily light and powdery. Vincent was almost happy he couldn't feel the chill of the north…

"We are headed Northwest of Winter hold…to the ice fields of the Sea of Ghosts." Vilkas answered him.

Vincent tightened his hold on him. "Sea of Ghosts? That sounds pleasant…" He then huffed. "Winterhold? We couldn't have taken a carriage or something?"

"Problem, Vincent?" Aela asked over her shoulder.

As if on cue, the pain in his backside intensified with a miss step and he grit his teeth slightly. "No…."

Aela suddenly stopped as did Farkas and Vilkas. "I suppose we can rest for a few moments."

They walked slightly off rode to find a clearing in which they could rest. Aela and Farkas went off a ways to gather some twigs and logs for a small fire. Vincent managed to clear a spot on the ground, set his knapsack aside and sat his aching backside down. He found that this did not help much. In fact, sitting seemed to make it worse. His displeasure must have shown on his face because Vilkas kneeled down in front of him and leaned in close.

"Are you okay?"

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Just ducky. How about you?"

He grinned, despite it. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Jerk…

Vincent glanced around and saw Aela and Farkas still a ways off. He grabbed Vilkas' shoulder and pulled him in a bit closer to whisper. "My hips really hurt."

"I'm…sorry?" Vilkas shrugged. "There really inst anything I can do about it."

"You did this to me, you take responsibility for it." He hissed. Yes, it sounded a bit childish, but hey. Why not?

"I am." Vilkas seemed amused.

"How's that?"

Vilkas leaned in and brushed his stubbled cheek against Vincent's smooth one. Vincent shivered and felt goose bumps rise on his skin. It brought back…pleasant memories… The feel of his stubble caressing his bare skin….his musky smell…. feeling his toned, strong body… the rough calloused feeling of his hands and fingers…

"I'll be taking care of you. You're mine." Vincent practically jumped at the sound of his husky voice. God's, that voice was sin… Vincent could come undone by those husky undertones and arousing deep growls…

Vincent shoved his face away before that… _'situation_ '…got too far out of hand. He must have been blushing bright red, because Vilkas did not seem offended by the shove. He was still smirking and just looked amused about the whole circumstance.

"J-just…go help them or something." Vincent huffed, looking away. "My internal healing will kick in faster with rest."

Vincent heard Vilkas chuckle and it sent another shiver through his body. The man could be a bloody tease when he wanted to! He heard Vilkas move away to help the others in gathering and he allowed himself a deep sigh.

What on Nirn was he doing…? A man who has dangerous enemies should not be getting close to people. Vincent's enemies were extremely clever and dangerous…so what was he doing?! Hadn't he learned by now? He'd become too close to these people now and felt them almost like family… He never thought he'd feel this way again and maybe that's why he was so drawn to the ideal. That still didn't make it right…

He was putting these people into great danger just by being around. In all his travels, he'd taken help where he could but he never lingered in one place too long. He didn't want to hurt anyone with his troubles… yet…here he was. His demons had already cost the companions. Skjor and Kodlak were dead and Vincent couldn't help but feel it was his fault.

He had dismissed Skjor's death as the silver hand's fault but the way they found his body had told him otherwise. He freaked out as badly as he did because the kill reeked of Cadrian's handiwork. He had screamed because his past had finally caught up with him and he wept because he knew this dream was coming to an end. Krev the skinner had claimed himself the killer…Vincent wanted to believe that…but knew otherwise.

Then Kodlak…Vilkas had said a man named Daric had done it. There was no way that Vilkas could have known then… Vincent knew that Vilkas didn't want him to blame himself but in reality, it was an impossibility. Kodlak's death would not have happened if Vincent had just moved on as usual.

The words written in Kodlak's journal also weighed heavily on his already fragile psyche and heart.

_'Vincent shows valor, though even in this more underhanded time. We have not had cause to speak, much and that is something I deeply regret. I have high hopes for his destiny, as I realized that his appearance in my dream may indeed mark him as the Harbinger to succeed me._

_I have received few dreams over the course of my life, but when they come, I have learned to trust them. I have also learned to trust the instincts of my heart, which tells me that Vincent can carry the Companions legacy as truly as any residing in Jorrvaskr, especially with the loss of Skjor. Aela is too solitary, Vilkas too fiery, and Farkas too kind-hearted. Only Vincent stands as a true warrior who can keep a still mind amidst these burning hearts.'_

He couldn't be serious…could he? Vincent as harbinger? He was no leader and not a warrior. Kodlak was dreaming about him in a strange almost prophetic way. Vincent recalled Vilkas talking about having similar dreams as of late. He wondered if Vilkas ever talked to Kodlak about them…

Then there was Vilkas. Aela and Farkas were like siblings. Vilkas…he was not. At first glance, Vincent had found him infuriating. He was completely set on his views of magic and would give no headway about it. Yes, magic was powerful and it could destroy lives…trust him, he knew! Vilkas was resolute on his opinion and Vincent feared early expulsion from Jorrvaskr…somehow that changed. Vilkas had come to him in the night and spoke to him…how that changed everything, Vincent wasn't sure but he had started to look at Vilkas differently.

It had been a seemingly long and terrifying road but somehow, Vincent fell in love. At least…he thought it was love. He'd never felt this way before about anyone and just the thought of Vilkas smiling, made him feel all fuzzy. He knew Vilkas was fierce and passionate when he wanted to be, but he hadn't been prepared for it. Vincent felt slightly overwhelmed at his burning emotion, but couldn't bring himself to back away. He didn't want to put these people or the man he loved at risk…but he had to stop running sometime. Vilkas knew everything now…all his demons were out on the open and he still wanted Vincent to stay.

So he would stay.

"You seem lost in thought."

Vincent looked up to see Aela smirking at him. She laid the wood she had gathered in a pile and moved to sit beside Vincent. She could be friendly and social when she wanted to be but Kodlak was right about her. Vincent did see that she was usually alone.

"Ah, yes. Sorry."

"No problem. I noticed you're limping slightly. Are you okay?"

Vincent coughed, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Yes. I'm fine now."

She nodded and sat in silence with him for a moment. "So…" She began. "How was it…?"

"How was what?"

She playfully slapped him on the back. "Sex with Vilkas, of course."

Vincent sputtered and turned bright red. He heard her laugh slightly. Damnit, woman. So very direct… "Excuse me?"

"Don't act all coy about it." She grabbed his arm. "I know you've done it. I can see it. I can smell it on you. Vilkas is more relaxed and calm. His beast sated. I knew the minute he walked into the under forge. That and your pheromones are all over the place!"

"What is that supposed to mean!?"

She laughed again. "It means you look really sexy right now! Silly."

Vincent buried his face in his hands. This was so goddamn embarrassing… "Aela…"

"Yes…?"

"Please. Stop."

She rubbed his back soothingly and smiled. "It's perfectly natural Vincent."

"Aela…"

"Did mean old Vilkas hurt you? Was he too rough?"

"Please…Aela…"

"Or do you like that kind of thing?"

"Stop. Please."

"I'm guessing you do by how red your face is getting."

"Ugggggghhhhh…"

"Awwwwwwww… how cute Vincent! You're so adorable when you're all red like that!"

"Aela! Leave him alone." Vilkas cut in and set his wood pile down. Farkas was close behind and did the same.

"What? I'm not doing anything."

"Aye. You are. I can tell by his face. Stop pestering him."

Thank the Gods for Vilkas. Vincent looked up at him with a thankful look and Vilkas cracked a small smile. Then he resumed his steely faced expression.

Aela huffed. "You guys are no fun at all."

 

The companions all sat around the small fire in relative silence. The pain in Vincent's backside had all but vanished due to his incredible healing capability but he was enjoying the sounds of the forest and the company of his fellow companions. It was a tranquility that he wanted but knew couldn't last. In no time at all it seemed that they were getting up, snuffing out the fire and continuing on their way.

"Your bag feels heavier then usual." Vilkas commented, carrying said item over to Vincent.

"Oh…well…" Vincent took it from him. "It has…the cure inside?"

Farkas wheeled around. "You have the cure in there?"

"Uh...I think so. According to a journal of Kodlak's and what he told me before I left on my mission, this should be able to cure him of lycanthropy. Although…he's passed so I'm not sure how this is going to work."

"Well…what is it?" Farkas asked moving closer.

"What's…?"

"What's the cure?"

Vincent hesitated. "Well….the severed head of an old witch?"

"…."

"...."

"...."

Vincent was keenly aware of the dumbfounded looks and silence that settled over all of them. Unlike the peaceful silence from before, this one was tense.

"K-Kodlak told me of the legends. How witches from Glenmori cursed the old Harbinger… He believed the cure lied there. He instructed me to…" Vincent swallowed thickly. "…sever their heads and bring them back…"

"So…let me get this straight…" Vilkas put a hand on Vincent's knapsack. "You have a severed head in here?"

"In a bag…yes…I left the other two at Jorrvaskr. I figured if we were going to cure him I should at least bring one of them."

The companions exchanged looks and it made Vincent slightly nervous. Vilkas slowly lifted up the top and peeked inside…then instantly recoiled.

"Ah…aye…that is…" He coughed awkwardly.

"Well…" Farkas began. "..That's no way to get ahead." He chuckled a few times before Aela punched him in the shoulder for the bad pun.

"Anyway…"Farkas seemed unaffected by the punch and figured that he's lightened the mood. "Want me to carry it for you?"

"Oh, no. I'm good. Thank you, Farkas. You're already carrying Wuuthrad for me."

"I can carry you too, if you want." Farkas grinned. "If you're still hurt…"

Vincent could have heard wrong but he could have sworn he heard Vilkas growl slightly. Farkas' smile wavered just slightly but he stood his ground. Vincent didn't hear the growl again.

"No. I'm fine Farkas, but thank you again."

"Not a problem, shield brother." he clapped a heavy hand on Vincent's shoulder. "As long as you are well."

"Perfectly fine, Farkas. I don't feel the pain anymore."

"That's a hell of a healing ability you got going there." Aela interjected.

"Ah yes…well that's…talent." He looked up at Aela and Farkas' questioning glances. Farkas seemed to understand a bit better, knowing what Vincent was but not getting the whole story. Aela looked completely lost in the dark. "Don't worry. When this whole thing with Kodlak is done…I'll explain everything."

 

The rest of the trip to Ysgramor's tomb passed rather uneventfully. Vilkas was half surprised to see his little lover able to trek over all the snow and ice without faltering. That healing ability was really something, but it did come at a dire cost. With any great power there is great sacrifice and some sacrifices should never have been made.

Vilkas had inwardly scolded himself for his earlier actions. When Farkas had offered to carry Vincent…a growl had erupted from his throat before he could stop it. He loved his brother and he trusted his brother. He knew Farkas would never willingly sabotage his relationship with the mage. His wolf however, was not convinced. It didn't want another wolf to touch what belonged to him. Brother or no. He'd have to apologize to Farkas later.

He was inwardly relived when they spotted the site of Ysgramor's tomb. It had been a long walk here with some awkward conversation and just as awkward silences but it was over. Now all he had to worry about was the return trip.

Farkas pulled aside the heavy stone doors and let the company in before him. Vilkas caught his eyes and only saw forgiveness and understanding. It made him sigh with relief but then again he should have expected no less. Vilkas stopped before entering the archway and felt his hair stand on end.

"Brother?" Farkas asked, nudging him slightly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…go on inside."

Farkas apparently didn't feel like arguing and left the door open for Vilkas. Then he followed Aela and Vincent inside the tomb. Vilkas then turned around and glanced around. He could feel that hateful gaze. Someone was watching him… His keen eyes could not pick up the stalker but he could feel it. That burning hatred…that could only be…

"Vilkas? Are you coming?" He heard Vincent call for him.

Vilkas glared at the landscape before slowly turning his back and entering the tomb. He shut the heavy stone door behind him and walked into the central chamber. The chamber inside was more impressive then the outside. A giant statue of Ysgramor adored the center chamber. Ancient marks littered the stature and the surrounding area. Vilkas made a mental note to study these sometime soon.

"Wow…" Vincent hummed in amazement. "It's so big in here…"

"This is the resting place of Ysgramor and his most trusted generals…" Vilkas spoke, glancing at his mate. In a moment he decided what he must do…he'd have to rely on Farkas and Aela…"You should be cautious."

"W-why?" Vincent blinked.

"The original companions… Their finest warriors rest with Ysgramor. You'll have to prove yourself to them."

Vincent paused as if processing his words. "Wait…You're…not coming with me?"

Farkas and Aela both looked over at him confused. Vilkas answered them with a stony look. He needed to do this…

"Kodlak was right. I let vengeance rule my heart…" he took Vincent's hand and gently rubbed the top of his gloved palm with the pad of his thumb. "I regret nothing we did at Driftshade…but I can't go any further with my mind fogged and my heart grieved." Even if it wasn't the true reason for staying behind, it was a valid one. If he told Vincent the real reason for staying behind, he knew Vincent wouldn't let him face it alone. He needed Vincent to go save Kodlak…this he would face by himself.

Vincent seemed to take that for an answer. "Okay. You'll be okay here?"

Vilkas cracked a small smile. "Aye. I'm a grown man…I can look after myself. Go on…I'll study these markings for a bit."

Vincent smiled softly but Vilkas could practically feel his concern. "How do we get in…? Do you know?"

"If you return Wuuthrad to Ysgramor, that should open the way."

Vincent looked over to Farkas and nodded. Farkas took the hint and slung the heavy weapon back up into the statue's hands without much effort. The stone wall behind the statue gave way and made a path down into the tomb. Vincent turned back to Vilkas and sighed.

"Are you sure you don't want to come too?"

"Aye. I'll be fine here." Vilkas glanced at his shield siblings before looking back down at his mate. He decided that he didn't care that they were watching. He cupped Vincent's face and leaned down to kiss his soft lips. He heard Vincent let out a soft coo against his mouth and relax. "Bring glory to the companions." He whispered, pulling back only slightly. He brushed some of Vincent's crimson bangs out of his pretty eyes, almost on reflex.

Aela let out a soft 'Awww'. "Come on now then, Vincent. Kodlak awaits!"

Vincent nodded and slowly slid from Vilkas grasp. The three of them then descended into the tomb to fight for Kodlak's mortal soul…Vilkas on the other hand…had another kind of fight to take care of.

He drew his sword again and turned to the doorway. He could already feel the cold air from outside blowing in slightly. The door was ajar. He was already inside or was about to be. Vilkas stared at the door for what felt like ten minutes. Nothing moved around him and all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing.

Vilkas gripped his sword tighter and grit his teeth. He could smell him… "Come out you coward! I know you're there!"

"Nothing gets past you…does it?"

Vilkas narrowed his eyes as the door cracked open further to reveal the source of the voice. "You…" He hissed. He knew he smelt a rat.

"Me." Daric answered, looking bored. He stepped inside with no weapon drawn but did not venture into swords reach of Vilkas. In fact, he stood with his back to the door and did so wisely. "What gave me away?" Vilkas just growled angrily in response and Daric rolled his red eyes. "Right. Not one for civilized conversation but then again I shouldn't be surprised. You're a Nord after all."

"What do you want?!" Vilkas snarled taking up a defensive stance. "I thought you would have learned from last time!"

"Ah, yes. About that…" Daric held up the hand that Vilkas had cut off. Vilkas' eyes widened to see it was back, whole and unharmed. "That really did hurt and I'm not fond of pain. Do put your weapon away…I only wish to talk…for now."

"I will not lower my blade! I see no reason for discussion with you!"

"I want to talk with you about Vincent."

"There is nothing to talk about!"

"Is there not?" He lifted an eyebrow. "My master hunts for him. I'm sure he's told you enough about his past?"

"Everything." Vilkas hissed.

"Everything? My…he has been busy…" He eyed Vilkas and then eyed his blade. "Put that away…you're making me nervous."

"Good." Vilkas growled, feeling his rage begin to boil.

He sighed, looking rather bored again. "I only wish to talk. Will you give me that chance?"

"You give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you here you stand…" Vilkas had surprised himself by not attacking on sight. This man killed Kodlak and wanted to take Vincent away! What reason did he have to not try and kill the dirty rat?

"Because of our dear redhead." Daric answered tilting his head to the side. "His welfare…"

"Don't give me that!"

"Do not fool yourself into thinking you are the only man here who cares about Vincent!" Daric snapped…then cleared his throat to keep his composer. "We are…not unalike Vilkas. I can call you that right? It's your name. Vilkas." When Vilkas didn't respond, he continued. "I care for Vincent. I love him…and I suppose in your own twisted, barbaric way…so do you. So answer me something… Do you feel good about stealing my love away from me?"

"Your love?" Vilkas spat.

"Yes. My love. I love him so much…and you've stolen him from me." Daric's red eyes narrowed. "Does that make you feel good about yourself, Nord?"

"I can't steal what was never yours."

He saw Daric's jaw clench slightly. "You barely know him…I've known him for much longer. I've seen the worst and best of him. I've seen him at his lowest and I still love him. I bet you don't even know what love is…do you?"

"I know what it is well enough." Vilkas was getting sick of his conversation.

"What would a monster know about love?" Daric huffed. "A dirty flea bag howling at the moon is all you'll ever be." Vilkas' eyes widened just slightly. "Oh yes." Daric began again before he could answer. "I know what you are. What the Silver hand couldn't tell me, I could sense. Pulling their strings, was quite easy…and getting them to do my master's bidding was even easier."

"You call me a monster…but what are you?! You're a vampire. More of a monster then I'll ever be!"

"I loved him before I became what I am." Daric scowled and flipped his long black pony tail over his shoulder. "We knew fear, together."

"That is enough. I will not stand here and listen to this!"

"One more thing, Vilkas…I have a proposition for you. My master will leave your precious companion guild alone…only if you return Vincent to us. We will take no more lives nor raise any more hostile action…but only if you give him back to me. You can continue living your little monster lives in peace."

"No." Vilkas said flatly. "He's mine."

"Yours?" Daric scoffed. "That's bold of you."

"He belongs to me…and I to him. I will not let you take him!"

Daric rapped his fingers impatiently on the stone wall next to him. "You know…I'll forgive Vincent for giving his first kiss away to such a raving lunatic…but you…you I'll never forgive."

Vilkas couldn't help but crack a grin. "Oh? I suppose you wont forgive me for bedding him either."

The rapping suddenly stopped and Daric started hard at him for a moment. His face was suddenly blank and devoid of emotion. Vilkas couldn't help but feel a small victory in this. Until Daric ran his fingernails against the stone and a loud screeching noise filled the entry way.

Daric's face had broken out into a maniacal grin and his eyes shone with an unchecked madness. "No, no, no, no, Nooo…. I won't forgive you. Not ever. Not ever…." He pulled an ebony mace from his dark trench coat and leveled it at Vilkas. It was an identical match to the one Vincent wielded.

"Not so calm and collected now, aye?"

Daric continued muttering out loud as if he hadn't heard Vilkas. "Take him away from me…your entire fault... you dirty mutt. I'm going to make you bleed…scream so loud your ancestors hear you…laugh as you are dragged to the hunting grounds… ooooooh Yesss…."

Vilkas felt the familiar tingle of magic start to rise in the air and immediately planted his feet to defend. He'd roll away as soon as this lunatic made a move and try to get a power swing in. He should have known better then to antagonize an obviously, mentally unstable man, but he couldn't help but claim his territory. Vincent belonged to him and he'd fight to his last breath to keep him.

"What do you know anyway?" Daric cackled maniacally. "You have no idea!"

"If you care about Vincent at all, you'd see that he's happy!" Vilkas didn't lower his guard and was ready to dodge at a moment's notice.

"Happy?" Daric seemed to waver slightly, his mace lowering just slightly. "No…no. Only I can make him happy. I sacrificed what I needed to make him safe! You would have never done the same!"

"You're right about that." Vilkas responded and watched Daric's smile twitch. "I would have never done what you did. I would have never thrown an innocent child…his sister…to the wolves. I didn't take Vincent from you…you drove him away yourself!"

Daric's manic smile fell into an angry scowl and he slammed his mace against the wall. "His sister? What sister? You mean that weak little girl?" He scoffed. "She was worth nothing! He gave up everything for her! Because of that drab, pathetic little sewer rat, he wouldn't even look my way. All he cared about was her… I sacrificed her because it was good for him! She was holding him back! Master was going to kill him! Now he hates me…because of you!"

"Was he really going to kill, Vincent!?" Vilkas didn't know why they were shouting. They were only a few feet apart. "He was fed to the flame any way! You did nothing but kill a small, sick girl! That is why he hates you and that is no fault of mine!"

Vilkas breathed in deep. He was vaguely aware of Farkas' scent being close by. He wondered what his brother was waiting for.

Slowly, he heard Daric chuckle. "What do you want me to say…Nord? Yes. I offered up his…little pet….in exchange for his own life. Would you not have done the same in my position?"

"No. I would have fought for him."

"You would have died." He laughed.

"Then I would have died without regrets. You told me before that I wouldn't know what love was, but you are wrong. I know what it is better then you do! That is where we differ in our feeling for him. I am willing to die for him…and you are not. You fear death."

"Silence!" Daric screamed and leveled his mace again. "You know nothing!"

"I'm right on this! You fear death! You are afraid to die but you don't care who you have to kill to get what you want! Didn't you think that Grace was afraid in that cage? That she feared when death drew near?!"

"Shut up!"

"Does it comfort you to know that Vincent would rather die then be beside you!?"

"SHUT UP!" Lightning crackled around his fingertips and his eyes were dark with rage and madness. "I WILL KILL YOU. I'LL RIP YOU OPEN AND PULL OUT YOUR INSIDES. I'LL KILL YOU JUST AS I KILLED YOUR FRIENDS."

"Daric…"

The lightning slowly faded and the madness and Daric's eyes faded. He looked stunned and awed at the same time. Vilkas didn't need to turn to know Vincent was there. He knew the sound of his beloved's voice. Vilkas stepped off to the side so he could keep an eye on both men.

Vincent looked like he'd gone through the fight of his life. He looked tired and his hair was slightly frayed. His clothes were slightly dirty and it looked as if he'd been in a tussle. Close behind him was Aela and Farkas, both glaring up at Daric.

"Vincent…" Daric spoke almost breathlessly. "Gods…I've missed you…"

Vincent wore a blank expression and didn't even glance at Vilkas. "Did you really do it? Did you kill Skjor and Kodlak?"

Daric looked stunned for a moment. "That's the first thing you want to say to me?"

"Answer me." His voice was strong and stable. "Did you kill them?"

Daric's eyes shifted from Vilkas to Vincent, to the two just behind. "I did as master ordered. Yes."

"Krev the skinner?"

"Recently turned by the master to do his bidding. A fool who wanted immortality. Once he usefulness had run it's course…the master would have ended him."

"He killed Skjor?"

"Injured him." Daric let his mace rest against his side. "I killed him and strung him up as a message to you. All on Master Cadrian's orders."

"…" Vincent sighed. "How could you do that?"

"Enough of this. Vincent…please. Come with me. No one else needs to die."

"No." Vincent answered firmly. "You're wrong. Cadrian needs to die for everything he's done and if you stand at his side…you'll die too."

Daric scoffed and looked as if his sanity was hanging by a thread again. "You don't mean that…."

"I do." Vincent crossed his arms. "Leave Daric. Don't go back to Cadrian. Run far, far away and never look back. Cadrian will be too busy with me to go after you. Repent for what you have done and never come into my sight again. That is the only way I can suffer you to live. Go back to him and your life is forfeit."

Daric opened his mouth and shut it again. He repeated this a few more times, seemingly stumbling for the correct words. Vilkas was mildly impressed by the gall of his little lover. He could speak with such commanding authority…it made you want to listen.

"W-why…why would you-"

"I am making you this offer because we used to be friends, Daric. I am doing this in honor of the boy you once were. Get out. I never want to see you again. Not ever. Have I made myself clear…?"

Daric stayed silent, his brows furrowed as he stared at Vincent. Vincent's resolve held strong and it was like he's just fought and won a war. It was harsh and direct but hopefully it was what Daric needed to hear. Without a word Daric backed out of the crypt, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Vilkas didn't move until felt Daric's presence ebb away.

Farkas ran up. "Did he attack you brother?"

"No. Just spewed a lot on nonsense at me."

"Thank you Vilkas." Vincent spoke with a heavy sigh. "You didn't attack him when I'm sure it would have been easier to just do so. You let me give him this chance."

"How long were you there…?"

"Not long." Vincent let out a soft smile. "I figured that since neither one of you were bleeding, you must not of fought."

"Do you think he'll take the warning?"

Vincent looked at the door and smiled sadly. "No. I don't think so."

"He killed Skjor and Kodlak!" Aela interjected. "We shouldn't of let him walk away."

"Trust me Aela, I'm sure you'll get the chance to see him again, and then you may do what you will."

She sighed. "I suppose you do know what's best….after all."

Vilkas looked between them. "What are you going on about…?"

"We saved Kodlak, Vilkas." Vincent smiled prettily up at him. "It worked! He's free!"

"That's…wonderful!" Vilkas felt his heart race at the news and that adorable smile. "Did you speak with him? Did he say anything?"

Aela and Vincent exchanged looks. "Ah…well…yes. He named a new Harbinger to succeed him."

"He…did?"

Vincent nodded and took one of Vilkas' hands. "Yes. Vilkas…I'm the new Harbinger."


	21. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Home…" Vincent spoke as if he didn't know the word. "This is it then… I'm really done running…?" Vilkas could see Vincent's lips curve upward slightly. "Jorrvaskr…It's my home."
> 
> Vilkas felt like the smile was contagious and walked forward to take him hand. "Aye." He gave his hand a squeeze and lifted Vincent's chin so he could gaze into those copper eyes. "I'm taking you home."

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Harbinger… Vilkas could barely believe it. Vincent had gone slow and explained the whole situation and what exactly had happened in that tomb. Aela had been there the whole time and confirmed his story. Farkas had turned back, halfway when they had encountered giant spider creature but confirmed that the part he was there for was spoken true.

"Kodlak spoke to you…?"

Vincent nodded. "Yes. One day, he wants me to help him retake the harbingers from Hircine's hunting grounds with him." He swayed slightly in place. "I'm…not sure I'm the most suited for this job…"

Aela and Farkas let out sounds of disapproval at his words.

"You'll be a great harbinger!" Farkas shook the mages' shoulders.

"Yeah." Aela added. "The old man felt like you could return leadership to the companions!"

"I…I don't know…" The redhead seemed conflicted. "Vilkas would be a much better choice as harbinger then me. He's a warrior after all…"

Vilkas opened his mouth to speak but Farkas beat him to it. "The old man must have seen something in you!"

"He made it sound quite clear that YOU were to be Harbinger." Aela crossed her arms. "I've seen you fight and it is as impressive as anyone else."

"I…well…"

"Vincent…"

"Come on Vincent."

"I just don-"

"That's enough!" Vilkas boomed over them. He looked down at Vincent. "The old man named you Harbinger?"

"Yes…"

"Then you're Harbinger." Vincent opened his mouth to object but Vilkas put his hand against the Mage's cheek and pressed his thumb against his lips. "No complaint. I've seen you take change and I know you can lead us. I am master at arms and I will help you learn the ropes."

"Vilkas-"

Vilkas pressed his thumb slightly into Vincent's mouth to silence him. "Hush. You are Harbinger. You have to show confidence in front of the other whelps or you will never get their respect. So no more doubt. You must be strong. We are all behind you."

It took Vincent a moment of thought but he nodded slowly, almost sucking on Vilkas' thumb.

Vilkas tensed slightly. "Understood then?"

Vincent nipped the tip of Vilkas' finger and nodded again. Vilkas couldn't help the low growl that slipped past his lips.

"Uhhh…Aela…lets wait outside." Farkas gently shoved her toward the entrance.

"Like newlyweds, I swear…" She seemed a tad disappointed about not being able to watch but allowed herself to be led outside.

Vincent cupped Vilkas' hand with his own, completely ignoring the retreating figures and gave the pad of Vilkas' thumb a soft lick. Vilkas pulled his hand away hastily and glanced up at the statue of Ysgramor. Now was really not the time to do this… Then his gaze fell back to the mage who was smiling coyly. Oh that little…

"You really shouldn't entice me in public."

"Well you shouldn't stick your thumb in my mouth."

"It was to shut you up."

"There are better things to shove in my mouth to make me shut up, Vilkas."

Vilkas' eyebrows rose up at that. His thoughts obviously shot to that special place in his head. He really shouldn't be thinking of such things now…but he couldn't help but picture the redhead on his knees with something much…bigger…shoved between his pink lips. He heard his wolf growl inside with approval at the thought. He'd have to try that sometime…

"I heard what you said earlier…"

Vilkas broke himself out of la-la-land to listen to his mate. "Hum?"

"I heard some of what you were saying before…with Daric."

Vilkas scowled at the thought of him. "Aye?"

"Did you mean it?"

He huffed. "Which part?"

Vincent shrugged. "Any part? Every part? I didn't hear it all. I arrived at the end of it…right around the time you said you'd die for me…and…that you love me."

Vilkas felt slightly embarrassed but he knew he had no reason to be. "Aye…it's true. I meant it."

"Answer me something then?"

"Aye."

"Do you really think I can be Harbinger? Do you really think I can lead these people…?"

Vilkas thought hard for a moment. When you think of the word Harbinger and what it means to be such, you defiantly don't think of the mage. He was not physically strong. True, the mage had some muscle behind his swings and punches, but he could barely lift Wuuthrad. With practice, that could be remedied. He was strong of will when he really decided to fight for something though. Vilkas remembered their trip to Loreius farm and how he had put that man in his place without lifting a single finger. His will was as strong as sky forged steel…even after all the mental torture he had put up with…and yes, there were still some hurtles they needed to jump and get over but all those things could and would be improved by training and practice.

Maybe that's what the companions needed.

"Aye…I think you can be."

"Really?" Vincent seemed surprised. "You're not just saying that because were sleeping together, right?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes. He'd defiantly have to work on getting Vincent's opinion of himself back up to par. He pretended like it didn't bother him, but Vilkas had seen his insecurity. Vincent was used to being told he wasn't good enough…that he was stupid or useless…He'd only lived with Cadrian for two years but had been running from him for nine. A good chunk of Vincent's life had been wasted running. Vilkas wanted to make it so Vincent would never have to worry. That might be asking the divines for too much currently but he'd try his hardest to make it so.

"No. I'm not just saying that."

"…" Vincent inspected him closely. "Alright…fine. I believe you."

"Good then. Now, the others are waiting for us." He turned toward the door. "Let's go home."

He didn't hear Vincent following him so he stopped mid-step. He turned around to see the mage starring at the ground near his feet. "Are you alright?"

"Home…" Vincent spoke as if he didn't know the word. "This is it then… I'm really done running…?" Vilkas could see Vincent's lips curve upward slightly. "Jorrvaskr…It's my home."

Vilkas felt like the smile was contagious and walked forward to take him hand. "Aye." He gave his hand a squeeze and lifted Vincent's chin so he could gaze into those copper eyes. "I'm taking you home."  
\------

It was announced to the rest of the companions when they returned, just who the new Harbinger was. Nadia did not look pleased, as Vincent figured she wouldn't be. The others put on big smiles and congratulated him with heavy claps on the back and encouraging words. Vincent remained strong and upbeat in front of them, although he knew more then just Nadia was displeased. Athis, for example. Vincent was the newest member and yet he had ascended faster then anyone else. The look in Athis' eyes told him the whole story, even if he spoke differently.

Athis wanted to be Harbinger someday. Everyone knew it and he made it no secret. Even though he smiled, his gaze was accusing. It was no secret that Vilkas and Vincent were a couple; not anymore anyway. Athis must have thought Vincent's quick ascendance to being in the circle and then becoming Harbinger must have had something to do with special treatment. Vincent didn't like that look. He didn't spread his legs to get to where he was. Athis and Nadia certainly must have thought so by the looks they gave. Vincent would do his best to change their minds.

Ria seemed genially happy for him and actually warmed up to him in a startling way. She offered to go hunting with him or just to generally be around him. Her excuse was that maybe she could learn from him. Vincent was inwardly honored and he did not outwardly reject the idea but claimed ' _he had a lot of companion business to get in order, now that he was in change.'_ It wasn't a lie, really… He did have a lot to learn…And it was really for her own safety. Vilkas didn't seem to like having her follow Vincent around. He knew his lover could be temperamental and he didn't want him lashing out at the poor naive girl, when she obviously only had good intentions.

Then there was Torvar. He had congratulated Vincent with a smile and a pat on the back. Vincent felt reminiscent as they used to talk on night that Vincent couldn't sleep…that was long before he joined the circle and moved into Vilkas' room. Torvar was a good man, if not a bit misguided. Then again, who wasn't now a days? After congratulating Vincent, Torvar walked over to Vilkas and exchanged quiet words with him. They keep their voices low and Vincent wasn't able to overhear. They had locked eyes and Vilkas had looked slightly annoyed by the conversation…but soon enough Torvar had broke the eye contact, held his hands up almost defensively and went to the table to get himself a drink. When Vincent had asked Vilkas what that was all about, all he got was a gruff, _'nothing'_ in reply.

Eorlund and Tilma seemed ecstatic by the news. Eorlund offered to forge him some lightweight armor to fit his new station and Tilma rushed off to prepare a grand meal to celebrate. Vincent really didn't want all the attention but they seemed so happy…so he just let it go.

"I know there are some of you here, who may think I do not deserve the boon I have been granted by our late Harbinger, Kodlak." He spoke up during the banquet. He stood tall an unshaken under their glances and he could see Vilkas out of the corner of his eye, listening intently. "I am not a traditional warrior like all of you are here. I am a mage. I prefer magical arts to physical ones…that I know is something foreign in this land of Skyrim. Some would argue I'd be better off going to the mage's guild."

"Not so much boss!" Ria interrupted. "That place blew up a week ago!" That incurred some giggling and chuckles around the table.

"That's not true!" Torvar countered. "I heard it's still there."

"Torvar, you can't remember what you had for breakfast!" Aela slapped him upside the head. "Now shut it, our Harbinger is talking!"

Vincent smiled at her thankfully. "Anyway, I know some of you don't have any faith in me, but I will do my best to prove you wrong. I have faith in all of you as capable warriors and fighters. I'd trust any one of you to watch my back and I hope you can look to me for the same." He glanced around at all of them before taking a deep breath. "There will be some changes coming, companions. I do not intend to lead as Kodlak did. His method worked and he turned out to be an excellent Harbinger. I however, do not intend to lead from a desk."

Slight murmurs circled around he table quickly. They all wondered what he was talking about and obviously disliking the idea of change. They had been officially leaderless since Ysgramor after all…

"Too long have the companions been without someone to truly lead them. No one in the companions, commands anyone. That is what I was told when I joined up. Part of that should be true. I will never steal your freewill or your identities from you. You are your own person and no one can take that from you. However, we have been directionless. We solve problems, but we should not stoop to being mercenaries that are hired out at the highest bidder. For example, beating the ever living piss out of a bloke just because someone asked us to. We have no idea what that man had done and yet we still do it. That doesn't seem right to me."

"It pays." Nadia gruffed.

"Yes, Nadia. It does." he replied sharply, startling even her. "There are other jobs that pay though, and pay much better then that."

"What if the guy is a complete jack off?" Torvar asked, rising his hand.

"Then feel free to accept and beat the crap out of the guy." Vincent chuckled as did most of the table. "We will be getting in-depth reports about jobs from now on. If the client doesn't like it, they are free to take their business else where." He glanced around at the collection again and steeled himself for the worst. "I know this is a lot to ask you all…my shield siblings… my family… but please bare with me. I will be a Harbinger that will make you all proud! Those not willing to stick by me may leave." Vincent pointed at the door. "None of us will stop you. I will be regretful to see you go and the fires of Jorrvaskr will burn with less intensity at your absence, but I cannot force you to be a part of this family if you do not wish it."

Vincent waited. He gave anyone the chance to get up in leave…and was inwardly relived when no one, not even Nadia moved. He smiled kindly at his family. "Let us move forward together then! I may be different, but I too am a warrior and I will die as I've lived-"

"IN GLORIOUS BATTLE!" All of the companions finished for him, shooting up from their seats and raising their tankards in the air. They all instantly chugged their mead in a very 'Nord-like' fashion and slammed them down on the table.

Vincent smiled and sipped his own. He saw Vilkas looking at him and if he was seeing correctly, it appeared to be with pride. Yes… he was finally home.  
\--------

"We wanted to surprise you, Vincent." Aela seemed quite pleased with herself.

"I know Aela and the intention was kind…but I don't think-"

"Nonsense. You're the Harbinger now. You can't stay in the circle's quarters anymore. We prepared Kodlak's old room for you now. You need to stay there."

Vincent didn't feel right just taking over Kodlak's room. The man was not even a few days' dead and already he was being replaced. Maybe that's just how it was with the companions. They had their time to mourn at his funeral and they had saved his mortal soul from the hunting grounds of a vile Daedra. Maybe, that's all that was needed?

She led him to the room that he shared with Vilkas and urged him to gather his things and get them to his new room. Vincent noticed with slight disappointment that Vilkas was not presently there to talk him out of it… He really didn't want to leave Vilkas room…he enjoyed waking up beside him. He was Harbinger now though and now had more responsibilities. He guessed Vilkas was just right down the hall if he needed him…

Vincent packed up his few belongings and moved them into his new room. He unpacked everything quickly and hung his coat up on a rack. He unpacked all his alchemical ingredients and stored them neatly on the shelves. He'd have to commission to get an alchemy table in here or something… A few sets of clothes and miscellaneous items later, the only thing left was Kodlak's journal.

Vincent palmed the leather bound diary, remembering the old man fondly.

_'My hope is that he and I can keep counsel over the coming years, that I can impart the wisdom of the Harbingers.'_

He too, wishes there could have been more time. More time to talk, to learn to really get to know the old man…but that was in the past. He couldn't change time…Gods knew he couldn't change time… He gently laid it in the bedside drawer, resolving to show Vilkas someday. He was far closer to Kodlak then he was and Vilkas deserved to know the old man's final thoughts in writing.

"Vincent?!"

Vincent could hear Vilkas calling for him in the next room. He sighed and headed for the door. "I'm here, Vilkas."

Vilkas walked into the entryway where they had first laid eyes on each other and looked at the mage accusingly. "All your things are gone."

"Aela suggested I move in here to befit my new station as Harbinger."

"…" Vilkas' eyes narrowed slightly. "Is that so…?"

Vincent fidgeted and leaned against the doorframe slightly. Was he angry? "Yes…"

Vilkas was silent for a long moment. "I…see." Then he turned to leave.

Vincent's heart instantly jumped into his throat. He had made a mistake! A big mistake! He didn't want to be away from Vilkas at all! He needed to tell him that! He reached out and grabbed Vilkas arm before he could retreat. The dark haired Nord turned his icy blue eyes on him with a slightly curious, yet cool, calculated stare.

Vincent's heart hammered against his rib cage. It was loud enough hat he swore even Vilkas could hear it. He opened his mouth, trying to form the right words, trying to tell Vilkas what he meant to him and how much he loved him. He'd never needed someone so much in his life and he'd do anything to make Vilkas stay. Yet all he could form was a simple phrase.

"Please…don't leave me."

It was such a weak thing to say and he instantly regretted it. He was supposed to be the Harbinger. There was no room for such foolish weakness, not now. Vilkas' expression did not change and that worried him to no end. Then slowly, Vilkas uncurled Vincent's fingers from his arm and retreated to his room without a word.

Vincent stood numbly in the doorway, looking at the place Vilkas once stood. That was it then? After everything they've said to one another? Vincent backed away from the door after about five minutes and retreated back into the seating area. He stared at the chair he had first seen Vilkas sitting in and sighed. He almost feel tears well up in his eyes but he hastily rubbed them away. Maybe he was just overreacting…?

He'd played it cool but in reality he was so stressed. He wasn't used to this kind of responsibility. Kodlak's death, his new title, Daric showing up and confirming all his fears… and now Vilkas' sudden departure…

Yes. He was the Harbinger and he had to be strong…but Vincent just wanted to curl in a ball and cry.

"What are you doing?"

Vincent practically jumped at the sound of Vilkas' voice and whirled around to see him standing a bit behind him. He had a small knapsack over his shoulder, along with his sword and a heavy looking wooden shield. In his hands, he carried what looked like a few changes of clothes. He set them down on the table next to Vincent and slung off the knapsack, sword and shield. He let them stay on the floor and wrapped his arms around Vincent's frame.

"What's wrong…? You look like you are about to cry."

Vincent half choked on a laugh and a sob. He wrapped his arms tightly around Vilkas and smiled against his chest. He felt foolish now for not knowing what Vilkas had actually been up to. He really should have known better. "I'm okay now."

Vilkas ran a hand through his hair soothingly and rested his cheek against Vincent's head. "You made a good speech today. I'm proud of you."

Vincent could feel his heart beat faster but now it was for a different reason then it had only minutes before. He shut his eyes and took in the rugged scent of the man he loved.

"where should I put my things?" Vilkas asked, still running his hands through Vincent's crimson strands of hair.

"Hmmm…Anywhere…I doesn't really matter."

Vincent heard and felt the low chuckle that rumbled out of Vilkas and it made him shiver. He could stay here, contently for quite a long time but there was the world to get back to. Although…that hand in his hair, stroking and caressing, made him want to melt into a pleased puddle of goo. Maybe… Just maybe… he could stay like this a little bit longer…


	22. Carry on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Paranoia. Dreams or more like nightmares really. Cadrian and Daric have been too quiet and it's making me nervous. I know a Harbinger is supposed to be strong but I relied on Vilkas to calm me. His presence seemed to make my worry subside but he's withdrawn himself from me, and I don't know how to handle it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Vilkas freaking the fuck out.

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\---  
\--  
Three weeks passed and Vilkas watched his little lover slowly reform their guild. Vincent had been working furiously, trying to get them better contracts and taking the extra effort to review their requests for work. Vilkas would often find Vincent asleep on his desk in the wee hours of the early morning. He'd of course, pick him up and put him to bed. In these past weeks there had been no sign of Cadrian or Daric but Vilkas knew it was only a matter of time.

He'd sometimes watch Vincent sleep and wonder if he had made the right decision. Vincent was doing a good job as Harbinger. There was no argument about that…but Vilkas couldn't help but feel…strange about it. He'd promised to support Vincent in his causes and even accepted the fact that he was chosen as Harbinger. Yet he still felt odd and watching his stressed mate sleep, only awakened that feeling more and more.

Maybe Vincent shouldn't be Harbinger. Maybe Vilkas would be better off being in charge instead. Part of him…and I mean a very deep part of him, admitted he was slightly jealous. Kodlak had groomed him to be a leader. He was Master at Arms at only twenty-five years old. He was a master of two handed weaponry and was intimately knowledgeable about the inner workings of the companions and Jorrvaskr. Ideally…he was the best choice…and a part of him always wanted to be Harbinger.

He'd been shocked when Vincent told him the news. Kodlak chose Vincent for such a sacred duty…Vilkas wasn't mad…just disappointed. He'd always thought that he'd be the one to succeed Kodlak. Vilkas fought hard, learned what he needed to diligently and excelled through the ranks. He felt…slightly robbed of it. Why would Kodlak chose him? Why Vincent? A mage of all things to lead a group of warriors….

He loved Vincent, mage or no and knew he was worth fighting for. He also knew Vincent had it in him to lead the companions…but he couldn't argue that it wasn't slightly unorthodox. He didn't lie to Vincent when he asked. He was chosen and he would have to be the leader. Vilkas would stick by him no matter what choices he made. That's what loving someone meant…to Vilkas anyway. Loyalty. He'd stick by Vincent as long as the fates allowed him and love him just as long.

His wolf, however…was not so convinced.

He could hear it at night, thrashing about like a caged animal. HE was the dominate one. HE should be the alpha wolf. His mate was his submissive and should behave as such. It was always growling now…deep inside Vilkas. It didn't help that Vilkas hadn't intimately touched Vincent since that night and his wolf was chomping at the bit. It was…painful. Vincent was so stressed out and tired, so Vilkas didn't want to bother him with something foolish like that. He was a grown man for gods sake.

Vincent cracked his eyes open and yawned softly against his pillow. Vilkas, who had been watching over him while he slumbered, reached over to pet his hair and he heard Vincent give a contented purr for his efforts.

"I need to get up and finish my work…"

"I finished them for you last night after I put you in bed. Rest for today, Harbinger."

Vincent hummed and snuggled more into his pillow. "You're so good to me."

Vilkas felt guilty for thinking as he did. If Vincent needed anyone to believe in him, it was Vilkas. He continued stroking Vincent's hair gently and saw him relax further. He couldn't help but think of that night Vincent had left their old room. Vilkas couldn't even be mad at him for packing and shipping off to the next room so abruptly. Even if Vincent hadn't begged for him to stay, Vilkas would have packed his things and intruded anyway. Even if that tiny part of him was jealous, he'd never abandon the man he loved.

"What are you thinking about?"

Vilkas put on a small smile for his mate. "Nothing. You should try to sleep more."

Vincent shook his head and turned so he could rest his head against Vilkas' thigh and rubbed his leg gently. "Can I sleep like this? I like having you near."

Vilkas knew he was going to regret this. "Aye."

Vincent murmured a soft _'thank you'_ and nuzzled his thigh as he made himself comfortable. Vilkas was now, anything but. His wolf, growled darkly and sharply from within. He pushed back the sound and the feeling and just stroked his lovers' crimson hair.

Sex wasn't everything. He knew this. His wolf disagreed. The wolf loved the more basic of instincts that all narrowed down to three things. Eating, fighting and fucking. The pack mentality was still there and beating as strong as ever. The wolf felt like he had his pack and there was no longer any fear of it moving on without him.

The next few days seemed torturous as the feeling intensified. It felt worse then before he'd met Vincent and he just repressed everything. He'd try to train Vincent more in two handed weaponry but his close proximity would lit a fire deep in Vilkas' chest and he'd call the lesson off early. Don't get him wrong. He wasn't running…just….temporarily retreating. Vincent meant the world to him and after the hell Cadrian had put the mage through…Vilkas wanted to do anything but hurt Vincent.

_'Claim him! Take him! He is willing, you fool! Dominate! Be the Alpha!'_

His wolf was no help what so ever….to say the least. It was worse now then it had been before Vilkas claimed Vincent. Now, he'd had a taste of his mate and needed more. Vincent's body, his lips, his smile, every bit of him, every fiber…Vilkas needed it. The scariest part about needing someone like that, wasn't feeling weak. Vilkas did not see Vincent as a weakness, oh no. If anything the mage gave him strength. The scariest part…was that Vilkas was afraid to lose himself.

\-------  
"Are you feeling alright, Vilkas?"

Vilkas glanced up at his mate who sat across from him in the courtyard. "Hum?"

"You've been distant lately. Is everything okay?"

Vilkas shrugged, non-comitial. He swirled an apple on the table between his hands. "Just a lot on my mind."

Vincent's lips formed to a straight line. "About…Cadrian?"

"Part of it." Vilkas muttered. "He's been quiet for too long. No sign of him anywhere…I don't like feeling hunted. I would much rather be the hunter."

"I know…" Vincent sighed. He glanced up at Vilkas and their eyes met. His copper pools said that he was sorry but he did not voice the words directly. Vincent had come to learn that apologizing to Vilkas for Cadrian and Daric was not a good idea. "What's the other part…?"

Vilkas huffed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Vilkas…"

"Vincent, no."

"Don't be like that, Vilkas…" The redhead let out a soft whine that lit Vilkas' body aflame.

"Just…! Stop. Please."

Vincent looked away, his eyes downcast and defeated. "Okay."

Great. Now he felt guilty. Vilkas abandoned the apple on the table in favor of rubbing his temples. He didn't want it to be this way. Their relationship was backsliding again… he wished that it didn't have to be this way and he had stopped to question why he was making it that way. Vilkas' wolf was apart of him and he should be able to share his pain with his mate… However, pride was involved and he was a stubborn Nord after all.

"I heard Nadia talking." Vincent broke the silence. "She doesn't think I have it in me to be the Harbinger."

"She didn't leave when you gave your speech. She toasted with the rest of them…she just…needs to be mean. It's just her."

Vincent huffed. "Our first meeting was proof enough of that. I was bringing Aela her shield and Nadia slammed into me in the hallway. When I didn't back down right away, we almost got into a fist fight."

"That would be bad. I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"…" Vincent lifted an eyebrow. "I could take her."

Vilkas stared at his pretty little mate for a good few minutes. "She is very skilled."

"I'm not defenseless Vilkas."

"I know your not…"

"You don't think I could beat her." The redhead replied, matter-of-factly and almost scowled.

"She is an excellent, fist fighter."

"Have you fought her before?"

Vilkas rested both his hands on the table. "Once or twice."

"Did you beat her?"

"Aye…" Vilkas admitted. "She power swings with her fists. I let her tire herself out."

"So If I can beat you, then I can beat her."

"…What?"

Vincent stood up and grabbed Vilkas by the wrist. "Come on then."

"I'm not fighting you." Vilkas made sure he didn't budge.

Vincent pulled regardless. "Come on Vilkas. I'll prove to you that I'm worthy to be Harbinger."

"You don't have to prove it to me."

Vincent stopped tugging. "Do I not?"

"I told you I stand behind you in this."

"I know what you told me, Vilkas." The redhead huffed and still pulled on his wrist. "I have a feeling through…and via this short time that I've come to know you and I do believe I know you…You really don't think I'm suited for this job."

"…" Vilkas couldn't bring himself to confirm that. The mage read him like a book it seemed.

"So come on. Let me prove you wrong."

Vilkas guessed he couldn't argue with that. He stood up and allowed his mate to lead him to the training ground. Vincent pulled off his coat and gloves and set them aside, then smiled sheepishly at Vilkas. Vilkas just pulled his sword off and placed it near Vincent's coat.

"Ready?"

Vilkas sighed and raised his fists slightly. "Aye." He really didn't want to hit him.

Vincent got into a stance that was slightly unfamiliar to brawling. His slender legs were spread slightly father apart and his hands were up, but not clenched in a traditional way. His hands were level, but open as if he was going to catch something.

"Well, swing at me."

Vilkas pulled his punch a bit and aimed at Vincent's shoulder. Vincent easily brushed it aside with the back of his palm.

"Vilkas. Come on. Hit me like you mean it."

Vilkas almost sputtered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm not made of glass. Come on, Vilkas! Man up!"

Well shit. Vilkas growled and swung, hard and fast at Vincent's stomach. Vincent deftly evaded the punch and spun out of the way. Vilkas pulled back to hit him on the back swing but found himself only striking air. Vilkas kept his swings calm and controlled but powerful. He'd probably floor the Mage if they connected.

He fought Vincent across the yard, none of his hits connecting as of yet. He wasn't tired and didn't put all his force into a blow like Nadia would. He could keep this up for hours.

He finally went for a feint. He went to slam his fist into Vincent's side but instead brought his right hand up to punch him in the shoulder. No matter how into it he was getting, he wouldn't punch his lover in the face. He'd been beaten enough by that Devil…

Vilkas found his feint ignored and Vincent snatched his wrist and twisted. Vilkas felt his footing stumble and one of his lovers legs shot out to trip him. Vilkas grunted and tried to catch himself but Vincent twisted Vilkas' arm arms back and made him fall flat on his back on the cold ground. Vincent followed the movement and mounted him once he fell, keeping Vilkas' arm pinned over his head. He slammed the flat oh his palm against Vilkas' shoulder, ready to catch the other arm if it shot up to topple him but Vilkas' arm limply stayed in the dirt.

Vilkas was too shocked to continue. He'd certainly been proven wrong and all the agonizing over Kodlak's decision seemed to fade. He looked up at his mate, who smiled so beautifully at him and all his worry drifted away. Vincent fought differently, yes. With Dexterity, with guile, with- oh…he should keep moving his hips like that…

Vincent was slightly rocking his hips and his eyes had turned slightly coy. Vilkas had to admit, he liked a man who could force him down like this and he'd be lying if he said he didn't get a bit hard from this roughhousing. By the way Vincent was rocking on him, he must know by now.

"Should we be doing this here?"

Vincent chuckled and let the hand resting against Vilkas' shoulder, drift up to cup his face. "Why not?"

"Someone might come out here…" Vilkas growled slightly at the end when Vincent rolled his hips just the right way.

Vincent leaned in until they were nose to nose. "Who cares? Lay in the dirt and get weird with me."

His mate's lips descended upon his and Vilkas let his eyes slid shut. Somewhere in the back of his head, he understood that he should not be doing this in the courtyard where any person could walk back here and see them together. His mind knew this…his body was past the point of caring. His arms reaches up and wrapped around the mage's midsection to keep him pinned against his body

Vilkas felt himself almost ebb away with the feel of Vincent's velvety lips moving against his, and the slight roll of his slender hips. He heard himself growl against their lips as his arousal increased. The feeling was intense and yet he had a strange drifting feeling. He could feel Vincent smile against his mouth and Vilkas was suddenly struck with the desire to gaze into his copper eyes.

He let his eyes open slowly, only to see Vincent meeting that gaze. His copper eyes were slightly hazy in lust and pleasure to start…but Vilkas slowly saw that look fade and those eyes widen slightly in surprise instead.

Vincent pulled his mouth away, sat slightly upright and gasped out loud. "V-Vilkas!"

Vilkas hooked himself up on his elbows and looked up at the mage. His head was spinning slightly, almost feeling drunk in a strange way. "Aye?"

"Your…eyes."

"My eyes?"

"They're gold."

Vilkas suddenly got it and shoved the mage off him quickly. How could he be so god damned stupid!? Had it really been so long since he'd come so close? His wolf had nearly tricked him! If not for Vincent, Vilkas might of… Vilkas could feel his breathing accelerate. Now that the deceit was over, he could feel his wolf forcing his will against Vilkas', while he still had a good strong foothold.

Vilkas gasped in pain as the assault began. He could hear that ear spitting howl echo in his head and he clutched his head in a feeble attempt to silence the horrid noise. Pain exploded in his gut so intensely that he could feel it shoot up his spine. Vilkas pulled his legs up to his chest and grit his teeth against the pain.

"Vilkas!" He smelt the redhead coming in close and touching his arm. What seemed to usually calm and sate his inner beast did nothing but make it worse now. His wolf would no longer be soothed by Vincent's gentle and loving caresses. It wasn't enough. Not anymore.

"Don't!" Vilkas wheeled on him, snarling and bearing his teeth. He scrambled a few good paces away from Vincent in the dirt, until his scent was not so intense. "Just…don't…" Vilkas tried to control his breathing.

"Vilkas…" Vincent began, standing and walking closer. "Please…we can work this out…I can help you…"

"G-get away!" Vilkas growled feebly at him as that tempting and intoxicating scent came closer yet again. His wolf howled again, sending another wave of pain into Vilkas' head and body.

"Don't send me away, Vilkas." He came closer. "Let me help you…" He reached out to touch him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Vilkas snarled again and managed to get to his feet. **"LEAVE ME ALONE! DON'T TOUCH ME!"**

Vincent looked confused for a moment…then Vilkas could see the hurt sink in. "I'm just trying to help you…"

Vilkas could feel his heart ramming up into his throat but he pushed the guilt aside for now. He was doing this to protect the man he loved…why couldn't Vincent see that? "Just…leave me alone for a while… I'll sleep in my old room until I can sort this out." Vilkas then retreated before his wolf had any say in it and while he still has the willpower to do so. He could hear Vincent calling out to him to come back but he ignored his call. He just keep reminding himself that he was doing this to protect Vincent.

\--------  
"He's been like that for two days now." Aela spoke softly.

Farkas sighed and glanced up at their harbinger who was sitting by the window completely silent and looking downright exhausted. "He and Vilkas haven't been talking."

"What's going on?"

"Apparently, brother almost lost control of the beast and ended up lashing out at Vincent." Farkas looked down at his mug of mead. "Now Vilkas is beating himself up over it and hiding out in his old room until he can _'get it under control._ '"

"Vilkas has been struggling for two days now?"

Farkas shrugged. "He says he came really close."

Aela shrugged right back. "He should just give in."

"You know he doesn't want to."

"I know…but it would be a lot easier on their relationship." she jerked her thumb in Vincent's direction. "We can't have a stressed out Harbinger in a time like this or an ailing Master at arms. Something needs to be done."

Farkas nodded, grimly. When they had got back from Ysgramor's tomb, Vincent had filled them in on the whole story like he had promised. He told them all about Cadrian and Daric and what was officially wrong with him. Farkas, only knowing half the story before had not realized how horrifying the truth really was. He still backed Vincent one hundred percent though. He was the Harbinger now and practically married to his brother in all but name. Aela had been the most accepting. Vincent's condition seemed to bring her closer to him and she vowed to protect him like he was her blood kin.

They were as thick as thieves now, the four of them. So it was easy to tell when there was trouble in paradise. Farkas had noticed the change almost instantly. The air seemed thicker and tense. Something was just…wrong. Then he could hear Vilkas shuffling about in his old room and he knew that spelt bad news. He finally made Vilkas spill the beans and it wasn't a pretty story. Farkas could clearly see that his brother was exhausted and in pain by the look on his face. He must be doing everything in his power to hold his wolf back.

Farkas' wolf was not nearly as demanding as Vilkas'. He'd placated it at Vincent's proving by letting it out and even Farkas' wolf seemed to shy away from the current disturbances. He could live with his wolf but he too wished to see Sovngarde one day. To do that, the wolf would have to go. So be it.

"Shall we intervene then?" Aela asked.

"Yeah. Guess we should."

Farkas finished his mead and slid the empty tankard across the table before getting up and walking over to their Harbinger with Aela.

"Harbinger. A word?" Aela asked pulling up a chair to sit across from Vincent. Farkas remained standing but stood close to Vincent's side.

"Sure. What is it?"

"You don't look well." Aela came right out with it. Subtly was not her strong point. "You look tired and stressed. Surely this job can't be that hard?"

"No, no…that's not it I just haven't been sleeping well."

"Not sleeping well, or not sleeping at all?" Farkas interacted with a gruff.

Vincent pursed his lips for a moment. "I…Look; I'm guessing you want to talk about something important?"

"It IS important." Aela took him by the shoulders and shook him slightly, and then she scowled almost instantly. "You look pale and you feel thinner. Have you taken your medicine?"

"I took it this morning." Vincent shook off her hold. "What's this all about? I'm fine."

"You're not." Farkas crossed his arms and stared down at the mage. "We can tell. This is about Vilkas."

Vincent glanced around the hall; Farkas was guessing it was to check if anyone was within ear shot. When he found the company of the hall was only occupied by the three of them, he seemed to relax slightly.

Yes and no." He ran a gloved hand through his red hair and sighed. "Vilkas is only part of the issue."

"Well, we can help with the Vilkas part, but we need to know what else troubles you." Aela spoke, relining back in her seat slightly.

"Paranoia. Dreams or more like nightmares really. Cadrian and Daric have been too quiet and it's making me nervous. I know a Harbinger is supposed to be strong but I relied on Vilkas to calm me. His presence seemed to make my worry subside but he's withdrawn himself from me and I don't know how to handle it."

"Tell him so?" Aela suggested.

Vincent shook his head. "He made it clear that he doesn't want me to come near him."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it." she countered.

Vincent gave her a stony look. "He screamed at me Aela. He told me not to touch him and to leave him alone." He looked back out the window; his eyebrows furrowed and scrunched up as if he was going to cry. "I don't want to get yelled at like that again…"

Aela gave Farkas a worried look. Her gaze was screaming at him to say something, anything that would make this situation better. He was Vilkas' twin after all and no one knew Vilkas like Farkas did. He laid a heavy hand on Vincent's shoulder and almost flinched when he felt the mage tense under his touch.

"Listen Vincent…I'm sure he's calmed down by now…I think he was only trying to protect you. He almost lost control of his wolf."

"We're supposed to help each other!" The mage turned toward him, tears fresh in his eyes but they did not fall. "I may not be the expert on dating and being in love but that's what couples do right?! Support each other! I could of helped him, I know I could have!"

"Listen Vincent…I don't think you understand." Farkas kneeled slightly to be eye level with him. "You're intentions are good and yeah…you're something that my brother has always needed…but all the wolves are different. Mine does not plague me like Vilkas' does to him. It is a fight inside his own body…just like how Vilkas can't help you with your sickness." He felt Vincent relax and he almost sighed in relief.

"He still didn't need to yell at me…"

Aela exchanged a soft smile with Farkas. "Yeah…we'll yell at him for that…but for now, we need a game plan. What can we do?"

"I have a plan…" the redhead spoke up and rolled his eyes at the look both Aela and Farkas gave him. "I haven't been up all night just moping, you know."

Copper eyes suddenly locked with Farkas own and made the bigger man tense. "What?"

"Farkas…I know this is going to be a lot to ask…and I understand if you don't want to go through with it but I have a plan to help Vilkas and I could really use you there…"

Farkas smiled broadly. He would hear the Harbinger out. "Okay, if it will help my brother. What did you have in mind?"

\--------  
"You again…" Vilkas scowled and stood, crossing his arms in obvious displeasure.

"Me again." The small girl answered, her dark hair blowing in a wind that Vilkas could not feel.

"What do you want from me? Why do you keep showing me these things?" Vilkas gestured around him. The bodies of the companions lay around him in a snow covered field. Aela, Farkas, Nadia, Athis, Torvar and Ria…All dead. Vilkas had fallen in the snow beside the body of his beloved brother and almost freaked the fuck out. Then that light had showed itself and the girl was there. This whole thing was just another dream…not matter how real it felt.

"We need you to understand."

"Understand, what!? For these past two days you've been plaguing my dreams! I have no peace! Awake or asleep, I suffer. Is that what you want?"

Her dark hair continued to flow about her as she stepped toward Vilkas. He watched her bare feet walk through the frigid tundra without a misstep. He was a Nord and even he would have been cold without shoes on.

"We need you to understand true suffering. Only then can you see."

She stopped within arms reach of Vilkas and he kept his eyes on the small child. He didn't understand what she meant. He'd lost Kodlak and Skjor. He was in almost constant pain due to his wolf's thrashings. He'd hurt the man he loved the most and alienated himself from his twin and Aela. Hadn't he suffered enough?

The girl smiled and made Vilkas flinch. "You're Grace…aren't you?"

She cocked her head to the side. "Grace?" She spoke as if she had never heard the name. The sly smile that slowly formed on her face was proof otherwise.

"Aye. Grace. Vincent's late sister."

She tapped her chin as if trying to recall that information. "I am a messenger."

Vilkas huffed. "A messenger for who then?"

"You know the answer to that. You've seen his mark many times now."

"Talos?"

"Maybe."

"Can't you give me a straight answer for once?"

"I am."

Vilkas face palmed. "The worship of Talos has been banned."

"Banned, but not forgotten. Only living creatures can ban their thoughts but not their hearts." She swayed in place. "Do you believe, Vilkas?"

"In Talos?" He ran a hand through his hair and breathed in hard. "Maybe. It's a nice thought."

"A nice thought." She echoed, sounding amused. He reached out and gently took Vilkas' spare hand. "We are more then a thought."

Vilkas almost jerked his hand away in surprise. "By the Gods, are you Talos?"

"Just a piece. A small piece…but enough to give this form substance. I am Grace, as you said but I am something else too. A messenger. A herald. I have been given a privilege that most do not receive….as have you, Vilkas."

"Privilege? Being shown these horrible things is a privilege?"

"Nirn is an ugly place, Vilkas." She sighed and it sounded slightly of the wind. "It is filled with evil men and women, Daedra and demons…One ray of light among the massing darkness is hard to miss. Your heart burns with a passion unseen in most times."

"What are you talking about?"

"What we have planned for you is an honor greater then any other. Being Harbinger pales in comparison."

"I've let that go." He sighed. "after everything, Vincent deserves it."

"Vincent may have taken Kodlak's place in title but you will take his place in spirit."

"I don't understand."

She nodded, almost grimly. "Kodlak did not tell you things he should have. He wanted to but all men folly. We cannot condemn him for his judgment."

"This is…It's all just…" Vilkas felt like ripping his hair out.

"It is dangerous for men to know the future. What I have told you is already very dangerous information. We have taken the risk because it will make you stronger. All will be clear in time and it is very important that you do not push away those closest to you. Do you understand?"

"I suppose…" Vilkas tried not to sound exasperated.

"That will do for now." Grace smiled and twirled slightly in place. "We will leave your dreams alone for now. We have shown what must be and will not bother you until needed."

"Hey…wait a minute…"

"Give Vincent my love."

"Wait, I said. WAIT!"

 

Vilkas shot up in bed and instantly grimaced against the splitting head ache he currently had. He'd fallen asleep in full armor…He was mentally and physically exhausted. He grabbed a spare change of clothes before heading for the bath. As he washed, he was aware of the subtle growling of his wolf. The fight had lessened and it seems Vilkas had come out on top this time. How long before he finally lost control though?

He remembered the hurt look in his mates eyes and it made he want to kick himself over and over. He should have stayed and explained but he'd been so…scared.

In all the close calls, that had been the closest. There was no telling what his wolf may had done to Vincent if the mage had not caught the change in time for him. Not being in control, losing his loved ones, losing grip on what was important…all these things scared Vilkas…and a warrior should be fearless…

When he came back to his room, fully clad in his new set of clothes, he found a small brown journal lying on his bed. Vilkas raised an eyebrow at it and slowly walked over to it. It hadn't been there when he left. Vilkas glanced around and found himself alone. The living quarters were eerily silent today.

He leaned down and picked up the leather bound book and eyed it suspiciously. He'd never seen it before…He sat on his bed and opened the book.

' _In my dream, I see the line of Harbingers start with Ysgramor. Each of them ascends to Sovngarde, until we come to Terrfyg, who first turned us to the ways of the beast. He tries to enter Sovngarde, but before he can even approach Tsun, he is set upon by a great wolf, who pulls him into the Hunting Grounds, where Hircine laughs with welcoming arms._

_Terrfyg seems regretful, but also eager to join Hircine after a lifetime of service as a beast._

_Then I see every next Harbinger turn away from Sovngarde and enter the Hunting Grounds of their own accord. Until it comes to me, and I see great Tsun on the misty horizon, beckoning me. It appears I have a choice.'_

Was this…Kodlak's?

_'And then, at my side, a stranger I had not seen before. As I look into his eyes, we turn to see the same wolf who dragged away Terrfyg, and he and I draw weapons together._

_I realize this is only a dream, but a strong enough dream to inspire a man like me to take to writing, so it must be of some import.'_

Vilkas blinked and re-read the text again. This was defiantly Kodlak's journal. He recognized the writing… Kodlak had eluded to having prophetic dreams…and now Vilkas was having them?

He remembered Grace's words. _"Vincent may have taken Kodlak's place in title but you will take his place in spirit."_ Is that what she meant? Becoming a Prophet? It seemed far-fetched…

Vilkas decided to keep reading. If the journal was left here on his bed, he had every right to keep reading it.

' _I've spoken of my thoughts to the Circle, with holding the part about the stranger lest Skjor worry I will no longer seek his counsel, and I was not surprised to see them torn by it. Skjor and Aela are strong in the ways of the beast, and even seemed to suggest that the Hunting Grounds would be their choice of afterlife, if it were truly a choice. Vilkas seemed most troubled. The boy is as fierce as a Sabre cat in battle, but his heart's fire burns too brightly at times. He felt deceived, and I don't blame him. Farkas didn't know what to think, but I believe he will come around with me and his brother eventually. He usually does. I don't know what to do about Skjor and Aela. I know they respect Companions, and me, but they take to the blood more deeply than the rest of us._

_Fortune smiles upon us yesterday, Vilkas was telling me how difficult it had been for him to give up his transformations. Until we can pursue a true cure, the twins and I have chosen not to give in to the beast blood. For me, it's provided a clearer head, but Vilkas seems to be suffering a bit for it. Farkas seems completely untroubled. That boy continues to amaze with his fortitude.'_

Vilkas smiled a bit. It was good to know the old man had such a high opinion of him and was still able to criticize. Vilkas agreed with him…he could be too passionate at times.

_'While Vilkas was confiding, through the shadows of Jorrvaskr, I saw a newcomer approach, who wished to join our numbers. It was the stranger from my dream, the one who would stand with me against the beast. Vilkas began speaking obliquely, not wishing to air our problems in front of our guest, and I had to be doubly cautious to not reveal anything of our secrets to the newcomer while also not revealing the details of my dream to Vilkas. I don't know how the politicians deal with these sorts of machinations daily._

_In any case, I've sent Vilkas to test the newcomer. We'll see if he is truly the great warrior I dreamt of._

_This newcomer, it seems, is made of decent stock. He calls himself Vincent Renalt and has already impressed some of the Circle with his mettle. I still keep my own counsel on his place in my dream, for now. Let us see what kind of destiny he is carving before hitching to him._

_In the meanwhile, I look for ways of cleansing my blood. The writings and legends on the subject are sparse and contradictory. I don't wish to engage any wizadry on this matter, but I fear they may be the only ones who best know how to navigate these worlds of knowledge.'_

Vilkas almost laughed at the Wizadry part.

_'It's apparent to me now that Terrfyg's choice to turn us was indeed a mistake. Magics and their like are not in keeping with the spirit of the Companions. We face our problems directly, without the need of such trickery. I can only hope to guide us back to the true path of Ysgramor before the rot takes me.'_

Vilkas sighed. He was amazed after reading such a line that he let a mage take his place as Harbinger…

' _Vincent continues to impress. I don't know where he will stand on the question of the blood, but the question has not been presented yet. He does know that we carry the beast blood, and appears curious about it. Soon enough, I can explain our troubles, and hopefully see what role he will play._

_I'm amazed that Aela thinks she can keep a secret among this drunken rabble. Especially with the loss of Skjor (my heart aches), emotions are fraying, and the walls of discretion are the first to fall._

_Apparently she and Vincent are waging their own separate war against the Silver Hand, in retaliation for Skjor's death. Their hearts are noble, but the course of vengeance is running hot, and I fear the counterstroke that may come if they do not rein in their fury._

_Vincent shows valor, though even in this more underhanded time. We have not had cause to speak, much and that is something I deeply regret. I have high hopes for his destiny, as I realized that his appearance in my dream may indeed mark him as the Harbinger to succeed me.'_

Vilkas sighed and tuned the page. There was not much left but then again Kodlak was not really a writer.

_'I have received few dreams over the course of my life, but when they come, I have learned to trust them. I have also learned to trust the instincts of my heart, which tells me that Vincent can carry the Companions legacy as truly as any residing in Jorrvaskr, especially with the loss of Skjor._

_Aela is too solitary, Vilkas too fiery, and Farkas too kind-hearted._

_Only Vincent stands as a true warrior who can keep a still mind amidst these burning hearts.'_

"…"Vilkas flipped to the last page.

_'I will not speak to him of any of this, though. It is too much to burden another with. My hope is that he and I can keep counsel over the coming years, that I can impart the wisdom of the Harbingers. All things in time. Firstly, I will seek his assistance in the matter of the witches of Glenmori. It would appear that our path to the cure is not without some poetic justice for the tricksters who first cursed us.'_

What did all of that mean…? Kodlak was having visions…like Vilkas is now. He saw Vincent. He saw Vincent helping him fight against the wolves that took all the other Harbingers to the hunting grounds. Vincent had stopped it…

Is that what Grace meant? He wished he could just get a straight answer out of someone.

"Vilkas."

Vilkas' eyes shot up to his doorway, only to find his mate standing there with a blank look on his face.

"Vincent."

"Can I…" He shifted slightly. "Can we talk?"

"Aye…" Vilkas shut the book but kept it in his hands. "You left this here, didn't you?"

"Yes." Vincent confirmed. "I think Kodlak wouldn't have been opposed to you reading it."

Vilkas stopped within arms reach and looked down at his mate. "Thank you for showing this to me." Those copper eyes lifted to meet his. Vilkas wanted to kick himself again when he caught a small glimmer of lingering hurt in them. It had been the first time they had spoken in two days…and for two people who were supposed to be in love, that was wholly unacceptable.

Vilkas slowly lifted his arms and encircled his mate. He rested his cheek against his lovers hair and breathed in his fiery scent. He braced his will against his wolf in case it tried to push against him but he found no resistance. Not surprising this time. His wolf must be tired from the struggle…Vilkas knew _HE_ was.

Vilkas soon felt Vincent's hands encircle him as well and he hid his face in the crook of Vilkas' neck. There was no need to say sorry…he knew that Vincent knew already.

"I won't send you away like that again. I promise."

Vincent nodded against the crook of his neck and placed a feathery kiss there. "okay."

They stood in silence for awhile, just holding each other. The silence was comfortable and not even slightly awkward.

"Hey Vilkas…" Vincent began after awhile. "I was talking to Farkas…and we decided something."

"Oh?" Vilkas pulled back slightly and took Vincent by the hand. "Lets continue this conversation in our room, aye? Possibly after I've slept…" he was still horribly tired.

Vincent slowly smiled and nodded, pulling Vilkas to the room they shared. The tension in Jorrvaskr ebbed away gently.

\--------  
"A cure?" Vilkas eyed his mate warily. He'd managed to fall asleep for a few hours and they were thankfully peaceful. Vincent had not left his side the whole time and even fell asleep beside him. They'd woken only a few moments before and once fully awake, began to talk.

Vincent nodded. "It worked on Kodlak. We saved him. It should work on a living person too! Kodlak was depending on it in the first place. Farkas agreed with me and we are going to cure him of his lycanthropy. We want you to come with us Vilkas."

Vilkas let it sink in. A possible cure. He could be free. No longer afraid to be around the ones he loved. No longer having to deal with the pain… "It seems too good to be true."

"Kodlak was freed." Vincent persisted. "He's going to Sovngarde now. In the end, it's up to you. I've seen you suffer and I'd do anything to take it away. I won't fail anyone I love ever again."

Vilkas weighed his options. Yes, he wanted to rid himself of this infliction…but deep inside he wondered if it was the best idea. With Cadrian and Daric hiding somewhere in the wings, would he need his bestial form to protect Vincent? Was it worth it?

Vilkas cupped Vincent's face to get his full attention and gently pressed his lips against the mage's. He felt Vincent melt against him and close the space between their bodies. He hooked his arms around Vincent's waist and hoisted the mage into his lap without breaking lip contact. When they broke apart, they were both gasping for air and gazing into each others eyes.

"Alright." Vilkas spoke after a moment.

"Alright..?" Vincent smiled slightly.

"Aye…" He nuzzled the side of Vincent's face with his own and heard him giggle because of it. "Lets do it."

"Really?"

"Aye. Really. We'll go tomorrow." He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll get the cure."


	23. I will wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Before that three day situation and right after getting back from curing Kodlak, you two should have been getting it on like rabbits. But Nooo. Instead, I have to deal with the awkward stares and shy smiles! I SHOULD be teasing you relentlessly about sleeping in after a good lay and consoling poor Vincent when his hips hurt."
> 
> "The world you live in must be wonderful." Vilkas growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Moar Sexy-times

\----  
\---  
\--

"You didn't have to come with us, Aela." Vilkas huffed, obviously sounding annoyed.

"Why not?" She crossed her arms, following the boys in tow.

"We are going to get cured." Vilkas stopped walking to scowl at her. "I know you disagree with the decision."

"It's not my beast blood I'm giving up. Besides if we're curing the both of you today then you'll need all the help you can get to slay the wolf."

"She wants to help." Vincent interjected with a soft smile and put his hand against Vilkas' shoulder. "Let her come along, okay?"

Vincent could tell that Vilkas wasn't one hundred percent happy with the thought but he gruffed out an "aye." and resumed walking. Such a grump.

Vincent sighed as they took a brisk pace. At least he wasn't limping this time! It made their trek up to Ysgramor's tomb much easier this time around.

"See! I'm just helping!" Aela winked at Vincent and Farkas, and then ran up to continue egging Vilkas on.

Farkas stayed back with Vincent as they watched the two of them bicker just ahead. The redhead glanced sidelong at the large man and nudged him slightly.

"Are you okay, Farkas?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "This whole thing seems unreal."

"I understand." boy did he… He'd taken his medicine the other day and knew what it was like living with a disease. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"I'll follow my brother's lead."

"Farkas…"

"What?"

"What do YOU want?"

"What do you mean?"

Vincent nudged him again. "You can't always want what your brother wants. You're not Vilkas."

"I know I'm not Vilkas." Farkas spoke, looking confused. He clearly didn't get what Vincent was talking about. "Sovngarde is a nice ideal and I would like to go there when my time comes. I am not an exact copy of Vilkas." He admitted. "Besides, if I was a copy of Vilkas, we'd have a very different relationship."

Vincent blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his head. "Ah…yes. We would, wouldn't we?"

Farkas glanced up at the bickering duo in front of them before returning his gaze to the Harbinger. "Yeah, well…I'd never step into my brother's territory."

"Territory, eh?"

Farkas shrugged. "I know a few companions would have pursued you if Vilkas hadn't claimed you first."

Vincent suddenly felt very embarrassed. How did this conversation come up again? "What?"

"Well…Ria for sure. I may be stupid but I can see the way she looks at you."

"Farkas…you're not stupid."

"Torvar would." Farkas continued, ignoring the comment for now. "He feels a bit cheated, actually. He thinks Vilkas stole you away from him."

Vincent felt his face heating up. "F-Farkas…"

"Athis would probably give you a go…Nadia too, if you could believe." He scratched his chin slightly in thought. "Aela always says that you make cute faces, so she may have tried if Vilkas wasn't in the picture."

"I thought she had Skjor…"

"More like sex friends."

"Farkas…how do you know all this?" Vincent's face must have been bright red. "I've never had so many people find me attractive before."

"Sure they have." Farkas clapped him on the back and almost took all the wind out of his lungs. "You're just not the type of guy that's concerned with his looks. I'm going to guess and say that you've just been oblivious."

"…"

"You alright?"

"How can you honestly call yourself stupid, Farkas…?"

He shrugged again. "Everyone says I am."

"You're defiantly not." Vincent crossed his arms. "They should give you more credit."

Farkas smiled. "Thanks."

Vincent smiled as well and examined Farkas face. You could tell he was Vilkas' twin…His chin was slightly broader, longer hair, his bottom lip was slightly fuller and he more of a beard but they were identical in almost every other way. The shape of their eyes and the color. Their noses, eyebrows, foreheads and war paint were exactly the same. Farkas did have an inch or two of height on Vilkas though and he was more built then his twin…

That and Vilkas could do a smoldering stare and growl that turned Vincent's legs to jelly. Vilkas' raw hunger made Vincent shiver and it wasn't in fear. That voice…that growl, angered or lustful, sent shivers of pleasure down Vincent's spine. Farkas didn't seem to have that in him…and if he did, Vincent didn't think he ever wanted to see it for the sake of his sanity.

"Something on my face?"

Vincent felt his face heat up again. "N-no! Sorry. I was just thinking." _About something horribly embarrassing…_

"I see." He seemed amused.

"Well, what about you?" Vincent felt slightly embarrassed from being caught starring. It was rather rude.

"What about me?"

"If Vilkas wasn't around, would you like me?"

"I do like you. You are like a brother to me."

"No, not like that Farkas. Liking me like how you say Ria, Torvar and the rest do."

Without missing a beat, Farkas broke out into a large grin. "Yeah. I would. You're cute as hell." Vincent's mouth instantly gaped open and he stopped walking. Farkas laughed at his expression. "Surprised?"

"To say the least." Vincent shook his head rapidly.

"No worries, shield brother. We are like blood related now. You don't need to fear any advance from me."

Vincent cracked a grin, relived and his embarrassment ebbing. "Oh good."

"You don't have to worry about any of us coming after you though. Vilkas can get very jealous and all of us respect him enough not to tread on something he's claimed as his…or they are too scared to. Athis pretends he's not, but Vilkas terrifies him."

Vincent glanced up at his lover just as a colorful string of curse words erupted from his mouth. He and Aela were still bickering like children about something. Despite it, Vincent smiled fondly at his back. Even swearing, Vincent found Vilkas' voice sexy. As if on cue, or reading his thoughts, Vilkas glanced behind them and their eyes met.

Vincent gave a soft wave of his fingers, a bit shyly. Vilkas got a strange look in his eye before turning back to Aela and speaking in a slightly softer tone to her. "What do you think they are talking about?" Vincent wondered out loud.

"Probably something embarrassing by the way my brother is acting." Farkas rubbed his arms absentmindedly and glanced again at the mage. "Aren't you cold-" Farkas cut himself off suddenly and looked like he bit his tongue. Guess he forgot for a minute.

Vincent glanced up at the grey sky and sighed. He watched his breath puff out and float away. He remember what it was like to feel the cold…and even if his body physically felt cold to others, he couldn't feel it. In the sun or in the ice, it was all the same. Vincent was sure that he should be happy being unable to feel the cold in a place such as Skyrim but it didn't stop him from feeling abnormal.

"It's okay, Farkas. I feel no offense."

"Sorry, I forgot."

"Again, it's okay. I'm not so sensitive about it anymore." A small white lie never hurt anyone.

Farkas looked up at the sky as well. "Thank you…for helping Vilkas and me. It means a lot to us…"

"Like you said, we're like brothers now, Farkas. I'm happy to help."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to. If we can, we'll all do whatever we can to help cure you too, someday."

Vincent's lips twitched slightly. "I appreciate it, but I'm not sure there IS a cure…" At least he didn't think so. If Lilliana Belemonde had found a way to cure herself of the spirit, she'd left no evidence of it. As far as Vincent knew, the only cure seemed to be death.

"We'll think of something…" Farkas nodded and held his hand out in front of him to catch a falling snowflake. "It's snowing."

"Yeah?" Vincent smirked. "I hear that happens a lot in Skyrim."

Farkas seemed to understand his smartass comment and shoved him slightly. "It could get worse. We should tell the other-" He was cut off yet again as snow seemingly poured from the sky at a suddenly rapid rate. The wind picked up harshly and blew he snow into their faces.

"You were saying?" The redhead retorted after he spit out the mouth full of snow. For a moment, he felt as if he could almost feel the cold but it must have been his imagination. He touched the cold substance and was fully aware that it was cold…but the feeling wouldn't sink into his flesh. If Farkas grabbed Vincent's hands, he would probably find them icy.

"Shut up."

\----------  
"So…" Aela began after she ran up, leaving Vincent and Farkas behind them a bit. "How has it been?"

"How's what been?" Vilkas grumbled. He really wasn't in the mood for this. His wolf had been eerily silent today and it had him slightly on edge. Maybe it was conserving his strength to stop Vilkas from going through with the cure? Did it even know? Or maybe Vilkas was just being paranoid. Still…

"Time with our lovable little Harbinger, of course."

"You know how that's been going." Vilkas scowled, his mood getting worse. "I'm sure you've spoken with him over the past three days."

"I have." Aela confirmed, getting in her 'big sister' voice. "You're needlessly complicating things."

"Needlessly?" Vilkas scoffed.

"That right." She folded her arms and kept pace with him.

"I'm not needlessly complicating anything." He grumped. "I was staying away so I wouldn't hurt him."

"Vilkas…" She began sounding slightly exasperated. "Did you ever stop to think that even for one minute that he can defend himself…?"

"I know he can."

"Then don't treat him like a fragile child."

"You don't understand, Aela."

She shoved his back lightly. "What wouldn't I understand?"

"I almost changed. The wolf had come close."

"Your wolf wouldn't be so tense if you just had sex more often."

"Aela…"

"Seriously, Vilkas. You need to learn to give in...just a bit and I'm sure Vincent would want to."

Vilkas turned his head to glare at her. "How often I bed my lover is none of your concern."

"Apparently it is!" She threw her hands up. "You've HAD sex. This awkwardness should be done."

"Awkwardness…?" He huffed. He really wasn't in the mood for this.

"Before that three day situation and right after getting back from curing Kodlak, you two should have been getting it on like rabbits. But Nooo. Instead, I have to deal with the awkward stares and shy smiles! I SHOULD be teasing you relentlessly about sleeping in after a good lay, and consoling poor Vincent when his hips hurt."

"The world you live in must be wonderful." Vilkas growled.

He rolled his eyes at the scowl she gave him. "You'd feel better and your wolf would be sated if you just gave in."

"Your wolf and mine are not the same!" Vilkas spat at her

"I'm just saying, Vilkas. Don't be too idle and wait for someone to snatch him up."

"Snatch him up?" Vilkas tried to keep the anger from his voice."

"That's right. I know many of our whelps would jump at the opportunity."

"Let them fucking try!" He snarled loudly. Maybe too loudly… He glanced behind him and saw Vincent and Farkas looking up at him. Vincent's smile was still beautiful, despite Vilkas' outburst and his redheaded lover waved shyly at him. Vilkas felt his pulse race slightly. He couldn't…no. WOULDN'T picture his lover in someone else's arms. He turned away and focused on the road in front of him. "My wolf is actively trying to take me over and no matter how much I want to sate my desire with Vincent, I fear for him. The wolf allowed our coupling once. ONCE. The next time we tried, I almost turned. I don't know what my wolf would do to Vincent given the chance but I have no desire to find out." He spoke slightly calmer.

Aela looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's…true. I suppose."

Vilkas took a deep calming breath. He knew Aela was just trying to help and he was sorry he'd snapped at her. He tried to calm his nerves and focused on the world around him. The air was crisp and even smelt cold if that was a possible smell. Even being a Nord, he could feel a chill in his bones. A storm was coming and Vilkas didn't know if he'd be strong enough to hold back the tide. He wanted to believe he could protect himself and everyone he loved but as the list of loved ones grew shorter, he started to doubt himself.

"Vilkas, answer me something." Aela started up again, but the teasing was temporarily gone from her voice.

"Aye?"

"Do you love him? Vincent, I mean?"

"Aye." Vilkas answered quickly. He'd come to terms with that long ago.

"Let me hear you say it."

"I love him." Aela was silent for a moment and Vilkas glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed a bit stunned. "What?"

"I'm…just surprised to actually hear you admit it. You were always so stubborn with those words…"

"Things change."

She nodded. "Yes. I'm glad to see they have." She laid a hand on Vilkas shoulder. "You've grown so much since he's been here with us. Trust yourself Vilkas…You're strong enough to overcome this."

Vilkas wasn't sure if it was the way she said it or the words themselves but in that moment, he believed her. No matter what the storm threw at him, he was strong enough to fight it. He couldn't keep pushing Vincent away in fear of his safety. The mage was a full grown man who'd been on his own for a long time. He's had to fight and kill to survive.

Vilkas couldn't let his wolf and Vincent's soul spirit sleep between them in their bed and successfully separate them. All the excuses and fear needed to be put aside…and Vilkas felt foolish. It was sad that it took Aela to make him realize something he should have come to himself. He was the Master of Arms at the Companions and Gods be damned, he needed to strong and unrelenting. It was time to start acting like it.

"Thank you, Aela."

She blinked, almost not hearing him but he knew she had. She had a wolf's hearing after all. "For…?"

"For…everything."

She smiled and said nothing, but no words were needed. As annoying as he found she could be, he still loved her like his flesh and blood. He couldn't imagine Jorrvaskr without her presence. She was a necessity, now and always. They may not ever see eye to eye on everything but he still wouldn't trade her for any other woman in the world.

A small snowflake fell on Vilkas' cheek and he hastily brushed it away and looked up in time to see the snow begin to fall. In mere moments it was everywhere, coming down hard and fast upon their heads. Vilkas heard Vincent make a noise of surprise behind them. Poor Breton.

Vilkas glanced about in the blinding snow and managed to see a campsite in the distance. With any luck it would have shelter from the storm…or Bandits he could kill. He needed to work out some aggression. Him and Aela stopped and waited up for the two stragglers. Vincent shook his head rapidly to clear the freshly fallen powder out of his hair. Farkas seemed amused and brushed the snow from his armor.

"What now?" Vincent asked, shielding his eyes.

"There is a camp site ahead just off the road. We can try and find shelter there until the storm passes." Aela pointed in the direction and lead the way there. To Vilkas' dismay, there were no bandits. The campsite had a fire pit and two large tents but otherwise looked abandoned for some time. Luckily, the tents didn't seem to be in disrepair.

"We can rest here." Aela concluded. "At least until the snow lets up."

Vincent nodded and shook the fresh powder from his hair again. "Sounds good."

"Farkas and I can share a tent and keep first watch." She spoke with a smile that Vilkas didn't fully trust. "Harbinger. You should go relax. I know you haven't been sleeping well."

Vincent smiled and nodded gratefully. "Thank you Aela." He turned and picked one of the tents, pushing the flap aside and entering.

Farkas was scouring in the snow near by to find wood for the fire and Aela started dusting off the sitting log near the fire. Vilkas moved to sit beside her but she held up a hand to stop him.

"What?" he asked slightly annoyed.

"I think our Harbinger needs you to keep him warm. He's just a poor little Breton in Skyrim after all."

Vilkas' eyes narrowed. She knew as well as he did that Vincent didn't feel the cold… "Aela…"

"Just go to him." She huffed and shoved his shoulder.

He sighed but couldn't help the smile that slowly came to his face. "Okay."

"Trust yourself, okay?" She reminded him and shoved him off toward the tent. "And be gentle with him! We have a hike ahead of us when the snow lets up!"

\-----------  
Vincent sighed and pulled his coat off. Inside the tent, old furs lined the bottom as a makeshift sleeping cot. It was nice but smelt slightly musky. Better then nothing or hard ground, he supposed. He slowly pulled his gloves off and set them atop his coat. He took a moment to examine his palms and the jagged scars that marred them. He flexed his fingers and sighed. He hoped he was doing the right thing.

Vincent was about to lie down when the tent flap opened and Vilkas crawled in without a word. He set his sword off to the side and glanced at Vincent for a moment. There was a strange look in Vilkas' eyes. It was a mix of determination, primal energy and expectance. Vincent decided that he liked that look.

"Tired?" Vincent asked, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden.

Vilkas shook his head lightly and began unclasping his armor. "Not really." He pulled his breastplate and shoes off.

Vincent swore that he could feel his face heat up. "W-what are you doing?"

"I'm not possibly falling asleep in my armor." He unclasped his belt and took his armor the rest of the way off; leaving himself in only the flimsy fabric he wore underneath. "Is that a problem…?"

"No…" Vincent muttered and tried looking away to no avail. He keep looking at Vilkas out of the corner of his eye…just watching the way his chest moved when he breathed, admiring his muscle structure and taking in the deep rich scent that was Vilkas.

Then Vilkas slung his shirt over his head and Vincent's heart literately jumped into his throat. Vincent's throat felt like the dessert and he swallowed thickly trying to clear it. He could feel his eyes widen as he openly stared and took in every contour of his lovers' strong yet semi-lean body. Vilkas was beautiful…but he knew the taller man wouldn't want to hear something like that.

Vilkas' eyes finally fell back on Vincent and he rested his arms on his bent legs. With a slight incline of his head, he spoke in a throaty, arousing tone. "See something you like, aye?"

Vincent knew his face must match the color of his hair by now. He squeezed his legs together to try and quell his growing erection but it didn't seem to do him any good. Now didn't seem like a good time or place but with those icy blue eyes penetrating into him like that, he found it hard to argue. All he could manage was a nod and couldn't pull his eyes away.

Vilkas adjusted himself on the furs and made sure that the flap to the tent was securely closed. He didn't want any cold air leaking in…there was only so much he could do though. The tents were in relatively good shape but weren't completely perfect. Once satisfied, Vilkas pulled down his trousers until they were completely off and set them aside. Vincent coughed and tried not to openly stare.

Vilkas reclined back and rested his hands behind his head. Vincent squirmed; his small problem had now developed into a large one. Vincent took a deep breath and shut his eyes tightly. He needed to have better self control. He wasn't used to this sort of thing.

"What's wrong?" Vilkas' husky voice sent a jolt of pleasure right to Vincent's groin. "Open your eyes."

Vincent opened them on command and wished he hadn't. Those smoldering blue eyes were locked on to him and he was helpless before that stare. Vilkas leaned up on his elbow and he reached out his spare hand to the Harbinger.

Vincent reached out his marred hand and took Vilkas' without thinking. Vilkas pulled on his hand and Vincent shifted slightly so he could be closer. Vilkas' hand then trailed up Vincent's wrist and brushed against his slender neck. Vincent was proud at the fact he didn't flinch. His touch was nothing like Cadrian's.

Vilkas' rough hand moved down to toy with the buttons on Vincent's vest before he deftly unclasped them with one hand. Vincent helped Vilkas remove the garment and sat still as Vilkas unbuttoned his undershirt. Once he had, Vincent slung it off himself and rubbed his bare arms. Not that he was uncomfortable in Vilkas' presence…more like self-conscious of his scars. Which or course was silly…Vilkas had seen him naked before and hadn't been deterred by it.

"Lay with me." Vilkas spoke, his voice still husky and deep. It was not a question and yet not a demand.

Vincent nodded hesitantly and moved to lie beside him. He didn't know why he felt so nervous. Maybe he was afraid Vilkas would freak out again. He really didn't want to get yelled at by the man he loved again. Though, he didn't think Vilkas would do it again even if the circumstance was similar. He was clearly sorry about the incident and Vincent doubted he'd make the same mistake again.

Vilkas' strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him in close. Vincent let out a soft, pleased hum as he was pushed against Vilkas' chest. He took in the rich manly scent of his lover and relaxed in his grip. He felt Vilkas' hand slide down his back without hesitation and hooked onto the back of Vincent's pants. He didn't bother asking permission and just pulled them down and off.

"What if Aela or Farkas-" Vincent began but Vilkas shh'ed him.

"They won't." He ran a rough calloused hand up Vincent's leg.

Vincent bit his lip and shivered. "M-my bag is outside…near Aela…" he didn't want to sleep near a bag of witch heads but an essential object to their coupling was inside.

"Don't worry about it." Vilkas gruffed out and hooked one of Vincent's legs over his hips.

Vincent could feel _'everything'_ right now and he felt his cheeks heat up at the contact. Vilkas' rough hand slowly trailed up his body and left goose pimples in its wake. Vilkas cupped his chin and tapped Vincent's bottom lip with three fingers. Oh. He got it now.

Vincent opened his mouth obediently and took his fingers in. He sucked on the digits, swirling his tongue around them to make sure they were very wet. He watched Vilkas' face as he did so. His lover was silent and watching is every move. There was a time he would have found that gaze intimidating…

Vilkas slowly pulled his fingers out and leaned in wordlessly to capture Vincent's mouth with his own. Vincent could feel Vilkas' hand moving back down and prod his opening. Vincent tried lifting his leg higher on Vilkas' hips in order to give him better access and pushed his tongue into Vilkas' mouth to distract himself from that uncomfortable feeling.

He felt one finger breech but was able to ignore that slightly odd feeling. He was able to bite back the feeling until Vilkas added another to stretch him. Vilkas' fingers were hot inside and Vincent couldn't help the hiss of pain that passed his lips from being stretched. Spit was also not the best lubricant. Vincent wasn't sure it was a feeling he'd ever get used to… He certainly hoped so. Gods knows since surrendering the first time to Vilkas' touch, he had longed for it again and again.

He never thought he'd ever lay with a man after what Cadrian had put him through, even though as a child he'd been drawn to the same-sex. Watching Frey gallivant about with different women and trying to push those girls on him had proven that. Cadrian had all but beaten sexual attraction out of him. Every fiber of that man revolted him. At times he wondered why Cadrian hadn't raped him like he raped the others. He never thought he'd ever have sex after his escape, let alone fall in love. He lived in nothing but fear before running into the companions.

Vilkas touched a spot deep inside that made Vincent see stars. He tensed against those fingers and gasped into his lovers' mouth. He felt Vilkas smile and let out a pleased growl. Gods, Vilkas… Vilkas had unknowingly saved Vincent from himself and everyone around him. Before Vilkas, he hadn't known how to let anyone else in. Somehow that grumpy Nord had wormed his way past all of Vincent's barriers without even trying. Vincent was drawn in by his fiery passion and couldn't escape. Not now. Not ever.

Vilkas turned on his back and hoisted Vincent atop him. He pulled Vincent up his body to get his fingers in deeper and prod that wonderful place inside him with greater ease. Vincent practically choked on his own spit and gripped Vilkas' hair tightly. He didn't even notice the third finger slip in to join the two already present.

"Easy…"

Vincent almost didn't hear him. It defiantly felt better then the first time they had done this and Vilkas hadn't even penetrated him yet. His vision spun slightly from the dizzying pleasure and he could feel his hardness throb between their bodies. Every jab to his prostate brought him closer to oblivion and if Vilkas didn't stop that soon, it'd be over before it even began.

"Stop." Vincent whimpered over and over. He really didn't want Vilkas to stop but he didn't want to leave his lover disappointed.

"Bad?" He asked, his deep voice was thick with arousal but also had a slight air of concern. Gods bless that man and his willpower.

Vincent shook his head. "It's enough." He slowly detangled his fingers from Vilkas' hair and attempted to lift his body up. He braced his hands against Vilkas' chest and scooted back slightly.

He saw Vilkas take a sharp intake of breath. "what are you doing?"

Vincent unsteadily reached back and pulled Vilkas fingers out of him. He groaned out loud and mourned the loss. "What do you think?"

"If you do it this way, it will hurt." Vincent watched him swallow thickly.

"I'll live." Vincent tried to lift himself over Vilkas' manhood. "I'm not-"

"-Made of glass. Aye. I know." Vilkas finished for him. He sighed and grabbed hold of Vincent's hips to steady him. His eyes darted to Vincent, up to the ceiling of the tent.

"Are you okay…?" Vincent breathed, trying not to sound impatient. He did realize they were still figuring each other out but somewhere deep inside, he couldn't wait until they were both comfortable enough to just fuck each other senseless.

"Aye…" he rubbed Vincent's hip soothingly. "It won't take long. That's all…"

Vincent smiled. Ahh. That's it then. "Don't worry." Vincent reached behind himself and gently grabbed hold of Vilkas' cock. He heard Vilkas growl at the touch and it sent shivers up his spine. He ran his hand around the thick base and trailed it up to the tip. This would be rather uncomfortable…Without proper lubrication it would burn going in, but the wheels in Vincent's lust fogged brain began to turn and he slid off Vilkas. Vilkas leaned up on his elbows and looked as if he was about to protest but Vincent moving between his legs silenced him.

The first time, Vincent hadn't really got a good look at his lover's…size. He contemplated his task for a moment and tried to recall everything he'd learned from anatomy books. This shouldn't be too hard as long as he avoided using his teeth. It was just to moisten the appendage anyway…it shouldn't be too hard.

Vincent hesitated and reached out to lick the engorged head of Vilkas' cock. He felt Vilkas tense but otherwise remain silent. He took that as a go. Vincent took the head of Vilkas' manhood in his mouth and tucked his lip over his teeth. He breathed through his nose while he still could and sunk down on him. He let his tongue wrap around it and took as much of Vilkas in as possible.

Vincent had never done this before but he heard Vilkas groan softly, so he guessed he was doing okay. Vincent tried licking and sucking on the appendage to slick it up more, then let it slide out of his mouth with a soft pop. He took his time, getting it nice and moist and nearly moaning at the taste of his pre-cum. Vincent made a mental note to do this again someday and make Vilkas unravel. He could hear Vilkas' labored breathing and he climbed atop his lover again.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be…" Vilkas' voice was thick with arousal and it made Vincent crack a smile.

Vincent grabbed hold of Vilkas now slick manhood and slowly started to lower himself on it. He let out a soft gasp as he felt Vilkas' tip breach him. He could feel his blood pumping quickly and his heart skip a few beats. He never thought he'd want something like this so much. Yes, it hurt but the small amount of prep before hand, had helped. He knew he would regret it later…but this slow decent seemed to be driving both of them mad… So he did what any inexperienced person would do and just let his body weight descend and fully sheath Vilkas inside of him.

Vilkas arched up at the sudden force and grit his teeth. Vincent took in a shaky breath as he watched his man struggle to keep control of himself. Vincent took a moment to catch his breath and placed a hand on either side of Vilkas' torso and then he began to move. He lifted his hips enough so that only half of Vilkas remained in him before bringing them back down. He started slow, agonizingly slow, for both of them.

Vilkas' hands tried to reach up to brace Vincent's hips, but almost on instinct, Vincent brushed his hands aside. They locked eyes and Vilkas obediently kept his hands at his sides. Vincent bit back a purr. For some reason…that had turned him on more, if possible. He could also feel Vilkas' cock twitch in excitement, deep inside him. He felt more comfortable and rocked his hips faster now, much to both of their relief.

Vincent angled his hips, searching for that place that Vilkas had struck inside him the first time they had laid together. He felt Vilkas brush by that space, making a jolt of pleasure shoot up his spine. He adjusted accordingly and slammed his hips down. Pleasure exploded in his body and he groaned louder then intended. He heard Vilkas gasp as Vincent uncontrollably tightened around him in response. Vincent rocked on that angle, crying out every time Vilkas' cock jammed into his prostate. His legs shook and his felt like his heart was going to explode from beating so hard.

"Touch me." Vincent almost couldn't believe how demanding he had sounded and opened his mouth to apologize…but Vilkas growling had cut him off. He obeyed instantly and grabbed hold of the mage's neglected man hood. The apology died in his throat and he just let it go. Vincent grabbed hold of Vilkas' shoulder for leverage and slammed himself down harshly on Vilkas, over and over. His mind went blank and he felt the pressure in his lower half tighten. Vilkas' rough hand on him was too much and he couldn't hold on any longer.

With a soft cry, he came hard in Vilkas' hand, his nails biting into Vilkas' shoulder. Vincent's eyelashes fluttered as his brain spun. He glanced shakily down at his lover who looked a bit awe struck. He could feel Vilkas pulsing inside of him, filling him up and making him feel whole. Vilkas took in a deep breath and then reclined his head, baring his neck submissively. Vincent instantly moved in to place his mouth against Vilkas' exposed throat and nipped at it. No words were exchanged and none were needed.

Outside in the warmth of their own tent, Aela and Farkas exchanged a smile and settled down for sleep. A job well done, indeed.

\-------  
"Alright, now step in…" Vilkas led Vincent through the steps and helped him swing.

Vincent smiled. "I'm getting the hang of it."

"Aye. Soon you wont need me to help you through the steps." He put his nose to Vincent's hair and inhaled. His pheromones were in high gear… His wolf was quiet and he really didn't want to think negatively on it right now. He was in a good mood after all.

And yet…Last night had been wonderful. He'd let Vincent have control and he actually enjoyed it. He'd defiantly have to experiment with that in the future and yet something nagged him in the back of his head. It was silly and stupid but it bugged Vilkas. He'd watched his lover climax…and again…those beautiful eyes of his had flashed blue. It was gone as soon as it had come but Vilkas had seen it and it wasn't the first time it happened. He debated telling Vincent of this revelation but knew the mage had enough on his mind currently. Maybe after they were cured, he'd sit Vincent down and talk about it.

The sun climbed over the mountains and they were just about ready to get back on the trail to Ysgramor's tomb. The snow had stopped at some point last night and lucky for them it wasn't high. Vilkas decided to give Vincent some two-handed sword training, while the others gathered what they needed to continue.

"Vilkas, can I ask you something?" Vincent inclined his head slightly so he could look up at Vilkas.

"Aye?"

"Why do you want to train me in two-handed?"

Vilkas shrugged and ran the pad of his thumb over Vincent's wrist. "It's good to know how to defend yourself with more then just magic."

"I guess." He faced forward again. "It's still heavy."

"It's supposed to be." Vilkas sighed and breathed in more of Vincent's scent. "How are your hips…?"

He felt Vincent stiffen a bit at the question before relaxing his posture. "Sore, but I can walk without limping."

"That's good."

"No thanks to you." Vincent replied in a rather cheeky way. It made Vilkas grin.

"Oh no. I'm not to blame on that one. That is all your fault."

"It takes two, darling." Vincent let the _'darling'_ roll of his tongue in a sweet way. Little bastard.

"Are you two done? I want to get going before the snow picks up again." Aela huffed walking over with Farkas in toe. She was smiling though and appeared quite pleased with herself.

"Aye." Vilkas easily pulled his blade free from Vincent's hands and sheathed it quickly. Vincent picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before following the group to Ysgramor's tomb.

It looked exactly the same it did the first time they had been there. No disturbances and no trace of intruders…yet it left Vilkas feeling…uneasy. There was something thick in the air and he couldn't quite place what it was. Dread? Foreboding? He couldn't quite place it but he didn't like it. His wolf had been too quite for too long and that was possibly contributing to the feeling. He was almost free though. So close he could taste it! To fight with his own mind, his own instincts and not have to share his body with a damned wolf… Maybe his dreams would become clearer and the Gods would tell him what they had in mind. Fat chance of that happening…

They walked in, past the statue of Ysgramor, still holding Wuuthrad in his hands. The passageway was still open and Vilkas and felt a shiver of paranoia run up his spine. Why hadn't they taken the weapon so no one could enter? Daric had found the place once and no doubt he could probably easily find it again. Vilkas remembered Vincent's warning to him though and he hoped if Daric was a smart boy he would stay away. It seemed unlikely though. He'd been chasing Vincent alongside his psycho master for nine years now. They didn't seem like the _'giving up'_ type.

No matter. He'd defend his Harbinger to the death.

This being Vilkas' first time down here, he had to let the others lead him. Farkas twitched as they walked past all the dead spiders. Vilkas almost smiled. It was kind of comical to see such a big man scared of such things. Then again, those spiders were the size of big dogs… When they got into the ceremony chamber, Vilkas' jaw almost hit the floor. There were numerous carvings of ancient Nordic symbols and culture down here…he could learn a lot! Too bad they were here for another purpose. He'd have to do this another time.

Vincent walked over to a small pillar in the center of the room. It had a ethereal flame lit in the center and the mage glanced at the twins. "Here it is. Who wants to go first?"

"I will." Farkas volunteered. Vilkas was inwardly relived but also anxious.

Vincent nodded and gestured him over. Once Farkas was at his side he reached into that putrid smelling sack and pulled out a witches head. The smell made Vilkas cringe, even though he wasn't standing next to Vincent. If he thought the smell of the witches head was bad before, it only got worse once Vincent cast it into the flame.

Before their eyes, however, a image of a large dire wolf appeared before them. Vincent took a step back but drew his mace just the same. Aela drew her bow and Vilkas pulled his sword free. Farkas stared at the beast for a moment and it stared right back at him. He pulled his sword from its sheath and the wolf seemed to understand the threat and attacked.

Vilkas felt his body tense and he almost took a step in to help his brother but Farkas seemed to have everything easily under control. He swung, mightily at the beast and cracked it in it's incorporeal jaw. Vilkas hadn't thought hurting creatures of that type was possible with normal weaponry but that rule didn't seem to apply with their spirit creatures. Farkas could slay it. Farkas could be free.

His wolf snarled weakly and went in for another pounce. Farkas barely side stepped and brought his sword down on the creature's spine. With a sharp yowl and a flash of light, the creature was gone and Farkas fell to his knees, seemingly in pain.

Vilkas broke out of his stupor and ran over to his brother. Vincent beat him there and attempted to help the big man to his feet.

"Brother, are you okay?"

"Is it over?" Farkas asked, clutching his chest slightly.

"How do you feel?" Vincent questioned him. "Is it gone?"

"yeah. I think so… It hurts a bit…like a part of me is gone and yet I feel whole. That make sense?"

"In a weird way." the redhead smiled. "Want me to heal you?"

"No. The ache is going away." Farkas turned to Vilkas. "I'm free Brother. Sovngarde will await me."

Vilkas cracked a small caring smile. "Aye. I am glad for that, Brother."

"Do you still want to go through with this, Vilkas?" Vincent asked carefully.

The answer was easy. Easier then he thought it would be. "Aye."

"Okay then. We'll be ready just in case…"

Aela glanced at Vilkas worriedly before speaking up. "We best all be ready. Vilkas' wolf is dangerous…more dangerous then Farkas' was. We all have to be ready to attack it if it comes our way."

"Right." Vincent walked to the flame and again, reached inside his bag to pull out another witches head. "Come over, Vilkas."

Vilkas' legs felt like jelly but he still made his way over without showing it. He needed to be strong. He gave Vincent a curt nod, showing he was ready to begin. Now or never.

The head went in and the wolf appeared. It was much…larger…then Farkas'. All blades were out in a flash, waiting for the wolf to strike but it stayed eerily silent…just watching Vilkas. Even though Vilkas hadn't thought they was a cure before, he knew that someday it would come down to this. He didn't hate this creature, it was just trying to survive…but he needed this freedom. He needed his mind and body clear for the upcoming war. He needed to know that a better place awaited him once he drew his final breathes…he needed Vincent to be safe. If that was selfish of him…so be it.

His wolf sized him up and no one moved or seemingly breathed for a long time. Then, his wolf's head bowed…as if to show respect. Vilkas didn't know why but he gave a curt nod in return. At least they had an understanding. Vilkas took in a deep breath and readied his sword…but his wolf's attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere.

It snarled and growled at the platform above them. Nothing was up there except an open casket that led into some kind of tunnel. The wolf bolted from the center and ran up. It went straight into the tunnel like a bat out of hell, growling and snarling at something…or someone…

Vilkas exchanged a look with Vincent. "What do you think- ARRRGH!" Vilkas fell to his knees as a loud yelp ran through the darkness, mixing with his own cry of pain. It was intense…like someone smashed a war hammer against his ribs. His wolf…it was gone…but the thought gave him no comfort at the moment. What was strong enough to end his beast?

His ears were ringing slightly from the pain, but Vincent kneeled beside him in an attempt to soothe him. He was vaguely aware of Farkas trying to pull him to his feet and the soft tingle of magic as Vincent was most likely trying to heal him. He picked his head up and looked toward the place his wolf had gone too…and his eyes widened. Somewhere deep inside he knew he shouldn't be surprised but Gods, did that guy have the WORST timing.

Up on the ledge stood Daric, staring coldly at the group with eight barbaric mercenaries behind him. His mace was out and stained with thick, red blood. All the mercenaries seemed to be wielding silver weaponry. Remnants of the silver hand, perhaps? Vilkas didn't have much time to think, because Daric lifted his stained mace and pointed at the members of the circle.

"Spare the red head." His voice was almost flat and devoid of emotion. "Kill the rest."

Outside the snow began to fall again.


	24. Half alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Spare the red head." Daric's voice was almost flat and devoid of emotion. "Kill the rest."
> 
> Well…shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Character death

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\---  
\--

"Spare the red head." Daric's voice was almost flat and devoid of emotion. "Kill the rest."

Well…shit.

A loud crack of lightning from the tips of Daric's fingers, filled the room and sent the companions reeling. Vilkas felt Farkas roughly grab him and pull him to the side before debris from the ceiling fell down upon their heads. A piece of ceiling fell down upon the alter, smashing it and putting the ethereal flame out like an old candle. The cure was gone and now no one would ever be able to use it again unless they found a way to restore it. Although now was not the best time to be thinking of that!

"Vilkas!" Vincent scrambled beside him and Farkas as Aela shot an arrow up at the descending mercenaries.

"I'm alright." Vilkas gripped his sword tightly and shakily got to his feet. The ache in his chest was still there but it now lulled into a dull throbbing. Adrenaline was kicking in high gear and making it easier to ignore the ache.

"Guess he came back." Farkas readied his blade.

"Guess so." Vilkas mirrored the action. Somewhere deep inside himself he was not disappointed to see Daric again. The warning Vincent had given the little rat was clear and Vilkas nearly hummed in pleasure. For Kodlak and for Skjor…Killing Daric would be retribution. He tried to ignore the sadistic part of himself that was going to enjoy doing it.

A loud yelp filled the chamber as Aela killed the merc closest to her before sheathing her bow and pulling out her dagger for close combat. Farkas and Vilkas ran into the fray, their bodies their own again and fuelled with a sense of self. Vincent had his mace out and cast spells at the oncoming mercenaries with his free hand. Soon the smell of cooking flesh and burnt hair filled the chamber that honestly wasn't that large to begin with. Vilkas almost cracked a smile despite it. What was with his mage and fire…?

The mercenaries piled into melee range and Vilkas noted with a snarl that Daric was still up on the top platform, watching coldly and a bit emotionless. His free hand was starting to weave into an intricate pattern though and Vilkas knew it was only a matter of time before another spell was cast. He'd have to reach that smug little bastard before he unloaded magical Armageddon upon their heads. Vilkas would have been foolish to think that in those long nine years of chasing Vincent, that Cadrian had not taught Daric any powerful and destructive magic.

A large Nord man with a silver long sword got between Vilkas and his intended target. He quickly ducked under the blade as it swooped down and attempted to sever his head from his neck. It clanged loudly against the stone wall and threw the merc slightly off balance. The bugger was quick, too quick. Before Vilkas could raise his sword to strike, the mercenary moved in again, swinging almost wildly, but not without skill. Vilkas parried the blow and crossed blades with him. Both of their arms tensed on their blades as they attempted to over power the other. A game that Vilkas would have won easily if his wolf was still inside… Now alone, the task was harder, but nothing in life worth having was easily gained. He would survive this.

Vilkas saw movement out of the corner of his eye and jumped back in time to avoid an otherwise fatal wounding from another merc that had attempted to flank him. A silver sword had cut into his side, right under the nook in his armor, but due to his hasty retreat, the cut was not as deep as it would have been otherwise. He landed a few feet away on his knees and hands, ready to spring up again in a moments notice, his sword has landed just out of arms reach. The sword of the man he'd been engaged in battle with, hit the ground where Vilkas had been only a moment before with a horrible crack noise.

In a flash, Vilkas rolled toward his blade and snatched it up before his foes could advance on him. He took quick perchance of his family. Farkas was fighting off a rather large Orc but seemed to be easily holding his own. In the quick glace, he gathered that Farkas was hurt from the sight if a cut on his leg but did not seemed hindered by it. Aela seemed no worse for wear currently but at close range she was only defended by a small dagger. He couldn't see Vincent in the brief moment he took to look about but the smell of fire was strong and he could hear the sound of his mace hitting flesh. Yes. Vincent was just fine for the moment.

With a scream, both assailants, launched themselves at Vilkas in an attempt to corner him. A good plan yes, but these fools didn't seem to know just who they were dealing with. One moved fasted then the other, that was clear. The one who tried to flank him stayed a bit behind and just slightly off to the left. Leave the big guy to do the work and then move in for the kill. Clever. But not as clever as Vilkas was when it came to battle strategy. The big Nord swung at him in an powerful over handed arch. All his power was behind that one move and that suited Vilkas just fine.

He brought up his sword from the right, catching the blade mid-flight and quickly turned his wrist to thrust the sword harshly to the left…where it promptly flew out of the Nord's hands and into the face of his little rouge companion. He was dead before he even hit the ground. Lucky him. The Nord looked at his hands, confused for a moment to where his sword had gone. Such a simple mind. Well now his head could join the body of his friend. On the floor. His blade cut cleanly, much like it always did and the big man fell away.

A sudden crack filled the room again and Vilkas felt a sudden jarring pain strike him dead center in the chest. He managed to let a surprised yelp cross his mouth before his body was thrust harshly against the stone wall, knocking all the air our of his lungs and making his head spin. The collision, that was one thing…it was the electrocution that sent his reeling. His whole body tensed and twitched. He never felt pain quite like this and it left him almost writhing in agony. It was like his heart was struggling to beat but something was making it skip. It flowed through his body, making his fresh wound throb and his teeth grind together. He was lucky that he didn't bite his tongue off! DAMN MAGIC!

A persistent ringing in his ears almost made Vilkas want to throw up and even though the electrocution had ended, his body still twitched. Slowly he could move again and climbed to his knees. His vision blurred but he struggled to see. He needed to find his sword…. The sound of battle slowly overcame the ringing but so did the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

"This is what I was warned about? Pathetic…"

Vilkas clutched his side and glared up at Daric who loomed a few paces away. He was down on the main floor now but so far untouched by the fight. They locked eyes and Vilkas couldn't help but notice that Daric's eyes were a deeper, richer, shade of red and his face devoid of its usual passion and anger. So this is what battle did to him, eh?

Vilkas grunted in pain as the heel of Daric's shoe pressed into his wound. He wouldn't scream, no matter how much he wanted to. He wouldn't give that bastard the satisfaction…

Vilkas located his sword and made to hastily grab it. Daric seemed unphaused by this and lifted his hand again. The tingle of magic sent a ugly jolt up Vilkas' spine and he struggled to grab the hilt of his blade. His fingers grazed it, unable to grasp it firmly enough to pull toward himself. He grabbed Daric's leg with his free hand and tried to twist it off him. To his surprise, the lithe man did not budge. Vilkas might as well have been trying to force a stone wall to move. The heel of his shoe did nothing but dig deeper…

"I'll kill you…" Vilkas hissed like a wounded creature. "I'll make you pay for what you did to Skjor and Kodlak…"

"Oh..?" A smile came to Daric's lips. It was unexplainably cruel and twisted, even for him. His hand crackled with a ball of lighting, once thrown would become a bolt. His voice was still flat, despite the smile. "Try again in the next life. Goodbye."

The bolt never left his hands. He was blasted off his feet with some kind of invisible force that sent his body rag dolling across the chamber floor. Vilkas saw him skid a bit on the stone floor, tearing some of his clothing and the flesh underneath before coming to a complete stop.

"Vilkas!" Vilkas felt the hand of his lover come and grab his arm. "Are you okay?!"

Vilkas turned to the redhead and saw him unharmed… Gods be praised.

"Aye, I'll live." Vilkas glanced around. The sounds of fighting still going on around him. "The others?"

"Aela and Farkas are holding their own!" Vincent glanced at Vilkas' wound. "Gods, your hurt. Just hold o-" Something violent and red crashed into Vincent's frame and sent the mage sprawling to the far wall where he collided with it. Hard.

"Vincent!" Vilkas managed to grab his blade and turned toward the threat, his blue eyes icy in fury.

Daric was already standing, but his face seemed paler then normal and given the fact he was a very pale man as it was, he appeared sickly. The red color of his eyes seemed to extend, marking the entire socket with a rich crimson color. Vilkas could have sworn he could see Daric's teeth elongating… He cast a brief look over his shoulder to see Vincent getting to his feet…not that it was really important but his heart was at least not in his throat anymore. The mage had a small cut from where he hit the wall, just above his eyebrow. In an hour or so, that cut would be gone, like it had never existed…if they lived that long anyway.

When the lights dimmed, Vilkas thought it was Daric's doing. The vampire stopped though and looked around, clearly confused by the flickering light. Vilkas felt the air on the back of his neck stand up and slowly edged back toward Vincent while Daric was distracted.

One of the mercenaries, suddenly crying out in pain got the attention of most. It had been a strong dark elf male. He had been fighting Aela and had appeared to get the upper hand on her. Just as he was about to strike her with a rather nasty looking silver dagger, a ethereal looking blade had bypassed all his armor and stuck out of his chest at an awkward angle. When he dropped, a ghost stood behind him, looking rather irritated and put off.

"What in the Gods…?" Vilkas began.

"The guardians of the tomb." Vincent marveled. "We defeated them the first time we came here to prove ourselves worthy…"

"Are they here to test us again?" Vilkas grabbed hold of Vincent's arm and helped the mage steady himself.

The ghost turned and locked eyes with the pair. Its eyes lingered on Vilkas for only a moment before turning to Vincent completely. Slowly, a small smile came to the spirits lips and it nodded at him in a show of respect.

"No…" Vincent breathed, sounding like he almost didn't believe it himself. "They're here to protect the Harbinger…"

The Spirit raised his sword and let out a horrific battle cry. Soon, spirits merged from the walls and attacked the remaining mercenaries and Daric. The two Farkas had been fighting were cut down smoothly, and with efficiency. Farkas lifted his sword, ready to defend but they passed by him as if he wasn't even there. The same with Aela, Vilkas and Vincent. Save for that one moment of recognition, it was like they weren't even there.

Daric bared his teeth and hissed as the spirits approached him in vast number. A loud crack of thunder struck a ghost in the center of its chest. It dissolved away into nothing in a flash. He went to draw his hand back to form another but a ghost gripped his wrist and pulled, shoving Daric off balance. One grabbed him from behind and dug a incorporeal dagger somewhere in his back, making him snarl in pain. Soon, Vilkas couldn't see Daric anymore, over all the sprits swarming him.

Aela and Farkas walked over to them, their eyes still glued to the struggle. No sooner that they were all together, a shockwave sent all the ghosts flying in opposite directions. They all dissolved in an instant, dying another death. Daric lay near motionless on the floor, twitching and bleeding from the numerous cuts inflicted upon him. Vilkas could hear him growling in anger…and his growl did not sound human at all.

Daric clawed at the ground for perchance . His aura was already crackling with magic, seems he'd be ready to cast once he regained his footing. Aela and Farkas were ready in an instant. Aela had restrung her bow and pointed it at Daric. She seemed no worse for wear but her look was seething. This man had taken Skjor from her and he would pay the price. That much was obvious.

Slowly, Daric climbed to his feet and faced the companions. His eyes were back to normal and he looked extremely tired. Instead of preparing a spell, he clutched to his left arm. It hung limp at his side, obviously broken or damaged beyond repair. His eyes were on the companions but it was almost like he couldn't see. He looked…confused. Something in the back of Vilkas' mind told him something was instantly wrong with this but he still remained on the defensive.

"Vincent…" Daric croaked out and took a few steps toward them. He limped weakly and left a trail of blood in his wake. "P-please." He coughed and blood shot out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin.

Vincent gave Vilkas a wary look and slowly walked toward him. Vilkas didn't trust this and followed close. Aela and Farkas followed as well, weapon drawn and trained on him should he try anything.

"Daric…" The redhead approached carefully. He hair his mace ready just in case.

Daric fell, for a moment and groaned against the stone floor. Slowly he got to his knees and hobbled closer. He stopped within arms reach of Vincent, which was far too close for Vilkas' liking.

"Need…to tell you…" Daric coughed again. It sounded worse and gargled. He reached out and grasped a bloody hand on Vincent's coat. The circle stiffened, ready to strike but Vincent held up a hand to still them.

"What is it Daric…?" His voice held a certain softness that Vilkas had not expected…

The dark haired mage leaned in and whispered something harshly into Vincent's ear. Then pulled back slightly. Vincent looked honestly confused for a moment, staring at his old long lost friend.

"Daric…" Vincent began. "I don't understand…"

"H-help me…" Daric swayed slightly.

Vincent put a hand on Daric's shoulder to mirror the one Daric had one him. "Daric?" When Daric resumed mumbling incoherently, Vincent shook him slightly. "What does that mean, Daric!? Answer me!"

"Help me…help me…" Daric whispered again and again like a mantra. His free hand fell to his belt and pulled a dagger from it. In a flash his eyes were crimson again, filling even the whites of his eyes that horrid color. He was screaming it now, "HELP ME. HELP ME." and raised the dagger to strike at Vincent.

Aela acted first. Her arrow pierced his wrist, making him drop the dagger instantly. He whirled around to face the threat, only to be blindsided by Farkas' blade. It caught him in the side and in a splash of blood, sent him reeling. He grabbed his heavily bleeding side and glared at Vincent. The serge of magic filled the room and surrounded Daric's form. This was going to be very bad… if his spell had ever had the chance to release. The red in Daric's eyes slowly faded back to his normal set. He opened his mouth to talk but found nothing came out. He looked down slowly and saw Vilkas' blade and pierced his back and came out the front of his chest.

Vilkas held his sword firm but Daric did not struggle. He just lifted his gaze and stared mutely at Vincent until the light faded from his eyes. A loud crack and a flash of purple light filled the room when Daric's breathing finally stilled. Vilkas wasn't exactly sure what happened but he was far too distracted to care. Daric's form quickly turned to ash and slid off his sword and onto the floor in a pile.

No one said anything for a while. Vincent stared at the ash pile, his copper eyes slightly wide in horror and…if Vilkas wasn't mistaken, grief. The mage looked like he wanted to cry…or throw up. Maybe a bit of both… Vilkas put his sword away and instantly enveloped the Harbinger in a tight hug. He felt Vincent's arms cling to him instantly and held on like he was a lifeline. Aela and Farkas remained silent. They had won…but for some reason, Vilkas felt like this was a hollow victory.

He thought killing Daric would bring him peace…but it was obvious that something had been horribly and unmistakably wrong with that whole ordeal. Kodlak and Skjor had been avenged…so shouldn't he be happy?

He buried his nose in Vincent's hair and sighed deeply. The mage remained silent but maybe he didn't need to say anything. Or maybe he couldn't…so Vilkas said it for him.

"Let's get out of here."

 

The walk back to Jorrvaskr was not what Vilkas had envisioned it to be. Yes, Farkas and himself were cured of their beast blood and that in itself was a victory…but there was no celebration. They took Wuuthrad and Ysgramor's shield to hang up in the hall when they got back. It was also to stop anyone else from entering that hollowed place. The walk had mostly been in silence, at least until the end. Aela, Gods bless her, was the first to speak.

"What happened?" She stated the obvious.

"He was possessed." Vincent answered, his voice weak. "I couldn't see it until the end…"

"By who? Cadrian?" Farkas asked.

"Most likely…" His voice cracked slightly. "I…he…" He stopped walking. Vincent looked frustrated, like he wanted to lash out, hit something, scream, cry, to ANYTHING other then just stand there but that's exactly what he did. "That light. I know that purple light. It could have only been a few things and I…"

"What was it?" Vilkas asked, already disliking where this was going.

Vincent's jaw clenched. "Soul trap."

Vilkas exchanged looks with the other companions. He didn't know much about magic but he knew what soul trap did in theory. If it did what Vilkas thought it did then…

"Don't blame yourself, Vincent." Aela walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing. We all did."

He placed a gloved hand over hers and nodded, but Vilkas could tell he really wasn't convinced. "Thank you Aela." He looked up at the twins. "Everyone…"

"That's what we're here for." Farkas stated proudly. "We're a family. Family sticks together."

That pried a small smile from Vincent and Vilkas found himself smiling too. Yes. They were a family.

"What did he say to you?" Aela asked and resumed walking. "Was it just his mantra?"

"No." Vincent shook his head. "I don't really understand what he said. It didn't seem like the common tongue."

"What was it?" Vilkas asked, falling back a bit to walk beside Vincent and take his hand.

Vincent looked up and saw Whiterun in the distance. The snow had halted and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. "It didn't make sense. It doesn't make sense…but he told me…" Vincent's lips formed in a straight line, trying to form the word on his own lips.

"Vincent?"

"He said, _'Morokei.'_ "


	25. Catching my breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I need you to get something for me."
> 
> She set down her mug and lifted a fine eyebrow. "Are you already out of lubrication? I gave you seven bottles of the stuff!"
> 
> "Aela, that's not-"
> 
> "You two must be going at it like jackrabbits!"

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Vilkas woke with a start. He shot up in bed, his heart hammering against his chest. He groaned softly and shook his head, trying to clear it. That scream still echoed in his ears. What was he supposed to do? He already felt guilty enough…

"Vilkas…?" Vincent murmured, cracking open his eyes and glancing at his lover. "What is it?"

"Bad dream." Vilkas muttered sullenly.

"Again?" Vincent soothed, but his voice was fighting off sleep. He reached a hand out and caressed Vilkas' bare chest. "Want to talk about it?"

"It's the same as the last one…" He covered the gentle hand with his own and thumbed the burn marks on the inside of Vincent's palm.

"I see."

Vilkas lifted the mage's hand to his lips and caressed it against his lips. The feel of Vincent's sweet, warm skin against his mouth gave him comfort. Vilkas shut his eyes for a moment and breathed a shaky sigh.

"Do you still want to talk about it?"

"We've discussed it before. There's nothing else to say."

"…" The hand in Vilkas' grasp flexed the fingers slightly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Vilkas kissed one of his fingers. "It's not your fault."

Vincent pulled himself upright into a sitting position, exposing his midriff. He was naked under the blankets, just as Vilkas was. He took his hand back from Vilkas and stared at his lover seriously.

"It's been three weeks, Vilkas. If anyone would have been having nightmares, I thought I'd be me."

"You do have nightmares." Vilkas huffed.

"Yes, but apparently not as often as you do."

"The Gods also don't speak with you." Vilkas adopted a sour look. "If any one else heard me say that, they'd think I'd lost my mind."

"Who says you haven't?" Vincent joked and poked him in the side.

"…Thanks for that…"

"Oh, knock off the scowl Vilkas." The mage rolled his eyes and then abruptly yawned.

"Go back to sleep, Vincent."

Vincent pouted. "Why?"

"Because you are obviously tired and I shouldn't be keeping our Harbinger awake at night."

Vincent snorted. "Nuts to that." He grabbed Vilkas' arm and hugged it to his body like a child would. "I'll go back to sleep if you sleep too."

"I don't think I could go back to sleep right now."

"Well then…" The mage declared with the best air of authority he could. "…allow me to distract you."

Vilkas lifted an eyebrow. "Didn't you get enough last night? Your hips must still hurt."

"I'm fine, thank you very much." He pulled the covers down a bit. "Besides, I couldn't sleep knowing you were sitting up, all brooding and naked."

Vilkas scoffed. "You're naked too."

"Well, I don't care that I'M naked…"

"And I don't brood."

"What do you think you're doing now?" The mage gestured to practically all of him in a dramatic manner.

"Thinking." Vilkas replied without missing a beat and smirked slightly when Vincent huffed. Vincent starred at him for a good five minutes in silence and Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Still think I'm brooding?"

"No…I'm more stuck on the you being naked thing."

Vilkas narrowed his eyes slightly. "When did you get to have such a dirty mind?"

"I blame you." The redhead crossed his arms.

"How is that my fault?"

Vincent sighed and pushed on Vilkas' chest, trying to get him to lay back. Vilkas didn't need to move if he didn't want to but he allowed himself to be guided down. The mage instantly mounted his hips and ran his hands down the flat of Vilkas' chest, his fingers dipping around the hard muscle.

"Mmm…It's defiantly your fault…"

Vilkas rolled his eyes again but really did enjoy the feeling of Vincent touching him. "I think you've been spending too much time with Aela."

"Probably." He didn't deny it. "She gives nice gifts though."

Vilkas assumed he meant the bottles of lubricant she had violently thrust into Vilkas' hands one night at the mead hall in front of everyone.

"Use it." She spoke with that trickster smile. "Poor little Vincent won't ever walk straight again if you don't!"

Safe to say, Vilkas had wanted to murder that woman sometimes…

"Aye…" He tried not to sound sarcastic, because in reality they were good gifts. He defiantly didn't complain when they used them. "Are you really going to start this now?"

"Oh please, Vilkas. Don't pretend you're not affected by this. I AM sitting on your lap after all."

"Mmm." It was Vilkas turn to not deny it. He reached up and cupped Vincent's neck, letting his fingers caress his nape. His thumb pushed against the mark he'd made on Vincent in what feels like, an age ago. In reality it hadn't been that long…

His wolf was gone and the mark seemed useless now…but at the same time, Vilkas didn't feel like it was. His wolf was dead but Vilkas didn't feel like he was missing at all. It was better now. He didn't have headaches as often, he never had to brace his will against something inside him, he didn't have to hear that horrible howling…and yet he still heard echoes…Sometimes he felt like he could still hear the wolf's contented growl.

His hand descended down the mage's body and he smiled when Vincent arched into his touch. He gently brushed Vilkas' hand aside so he could lay flat on him and gently twirled his fingers in Vilkas' dark hair. They were nose to nose, breathing the same air and just staring at each other.

"I worry about you." Vincent spoke seriously and soothingly.

Vilkas' hands slowly came up and encircled him, trapping Vincent against him. "Aye…I know."

"It will be okay Vilkas." Vincent smiled before diving in to catch Vilkas' lips with his own.

Vilkas was inclined to agree at the moment.

\------------  
While Vincent was out on a job with Farkas, it gave Vilkas some time to gather everything he needed. He wanted it to be…special? Interesting? In reality, he didn't really know…he just knew he had to do it. He'd already talked to Eorlund. The old man had grinned and eagerly set to work on the commission. It would be ready by the time Vilkas needed it. All that was left was one piece and Vilkas could think of no one better suited to helping him get it then Aela.

He approached her in the hall while she was drinking and sat down next to her. She grinned behind her mug, already knowing Vilkas must want something if he chose to sit close. There were plenty of other seats and Vilkas never willingly violated his own personal space…well...Vincent being an exception.

"Yes?" She asked, sounding amused.

"I need you to get something for me."

She set down her mug and lifted a fine eyebrow. "Are you already out of lubrication? I gave you seven bottles of the stuff!"

"Aela, that's not-"

"You two must be going at it like jackrabbits!"

Vilkas felt the color rushing to his face when he heard Ria giggle off to the side. "Shut up. That's not what I'm here for." he hissed.

"Ah…" She paused, then gained that evil smile. "But you have right?"

Vilkas stared at her incredulously. He was starting to regret this already and he hadn't even asked the favor. "Are you serious…?"

"Very."

"Don't you have anything better to do then worry about my sex life?"

"Apparently not, seeing as I had to whip your ass into gear, Vilkas."

"Aela…"

"Humor me, Vilkas. Out with it."

Vilkas grit his teeth, embarrassed and slightly peeved. He DID need a favor though so he might as well play along for now. "No, we don't need anymore and Aye, we have been. Happy now?"

"Quite." She reclined in her seat and picked up her mug of mead. "So, what can I get for you?"

"It has to be a secret." Vilkas warned. "Vincent can't know and I need it within a week."

Aela blinked. "Depends what it is Vilkas. I'm not a miracle worker."

Vilkas pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Aela. She eyed him warily and slowly took it from him. Her eyes scanned the four simple words on the page and her eyes widened. Her gaze shot back up to Vilkas.

"Seriously?" She seemed generally shocked.

"Dead serious."

Aela looked back down at the paper and smiled. It was a real smile, not mixed with any devious intent. "Of course I'll get this for you Vilkas. It'll be easy."

"I appreciate it." Vilkas made to stand up but Aela grabbed his arm.

"Stay a bit. I wanted to ask you about the boss."

Vilkas remained seated and nodded. "If it's a dirty question you can forget it. I've told you enough."

"No, no. Not that." She glanced over her shoulder at Ria and Nadia, who were now engrossed in their own conversation and no longer paying the two circle members any heed. "How's he doing?"

"What do you mean…?" Vilkas hunched over in his seat slightly. "You've spoken with him recently. Surely you know."

"No one knows him like you do Vilkas. How is he REALLY dealing with this whole thing?"

"You mean about Daric."

"Yeah… I never want to ask him when I see him. He seems like it doesn't bother him. Beside the day it happened, he's acting like it didn't even happen at all."

Vilkas gave a noncommittal shrug. "The guy did send his sister to her death. He did kill Skjor and Kodlak…"

"I know, but that guy was still his friend right?"

"I think he lost that privilege long ago, Aela. To be honest, the first week he had a few nightmares. Then…nothing. I've had more nightmares about Daric's death then he has."

"You've been having nightmares about that guy?" She made a disgusted look.

"Sad to say, aye."

"What about…?"

Vilkas sighed deeply. "It's…a replay. A replay of that night we fought him." He clarified. "everything happens the same way, except he's facing me when I stab him. Its just…the look he gives me."

"What? Like a scared look? You've killed tons of men Vilkas. You've seen the light in their eyes die out. You've seen the fear. How is this any different?"

"No Aela…" He wrung his hands together. "He doesn't look scared. That's the problem."

She tilted her head to the side. "So he…"

"He…" Vilkas swallowed thickly. "He looks scared at first but then he…smiles at me. His lips stretch almost impossibly far apart and his eyes turn that hideous red color again. He laughs, but its not just his voice. The room shakes and then I always wake up."

Aela seemly took it all in. "Do you feel guilty about killing him?"

Vilkas shrugged again. "Maybe. He was screaming for help. Maybe we could have done something…"

"I don't understand Vilkas. I thought you wanted to kill him. You wanted him just as dead as Farkas and I did."

"I did want him dead." Vilkas confirmed. "I knew Vincent would never be safe as long as Cadrian and Daric drew breath. Now that one of them is gone you'd think I could rest a bit easier…" Vilkas shook his head with a humorless chuckle and looked adown at his clasped hands. "I wanted him dead, Aela…for everything he's done. But…I saw the look on Vilkas' face as he watched the light fade from Daric's eyes…as he watched him turn to ash… He looked broken."

Aela pursed her lips together and nodded grimly. "I saw it too. Have you talked to him about this?"

"Aye. He always tells me the same thing. He says he's fine."

"Maybe you should talk to him again?" She offered. "I'll go with you if you want."

"No. I'll talk with him alone, Aela. I don't want to cause a scene." He sighed and stood up. "He might not even tell me the truth."

"If he loves you he will." she offered with a slightly sad smile.

"Aye." Vilkas agreed walking off. "…if he loves me."

 

He found Vincent bent over the alchemy table he had installed in the Harbinger office hours after he'd returned from his job with Farkas. He was mixing some foul smelling liquid that Vilkas instantly identified as Vincent's 'medicine'. Vilkas took a moment to take in his surroundings before confronting his lover. There were books all over the desk and paper and ink laid out. The candle Vincent had lit to read by was starting to burn out and cooling wax stuck to the side of the candlestick. The books didn't make any sense to Vilkas. They looked like they were all written in a foreign tongue and what he could make out seemed like history books.

His eyes turned back to the mage, who had yet to look up from his alchemy. He cleared his throat and Vincent spun around to face him. His eyes were a rich honey color today but the color closest to his pupil seemed slightly red. Vilkas tried not to flinch at the visible progression of Vincent's 'condition.'

"It's almost day three." Vilkas began. "Have you taken your medicine yet?"

"I'm making it right now." The mage smiled softly. "I got a bit caught up in my research and forgot that I'd run out."

Vilkas scowled slightly. How do you forget something like that? He waited for the mage to finish and watched him bottle at least six doses worth. One, he drank on the spot. He clenched his eyes shut and made a gagging noise. When he'd settled and re-opened his eyes, they were back to their neutral, yet still beautiful copper.

Vilkas really wanted to see those blue eyes stay someday. He'd taken a habit to watching Vincent closely during their…well…sexual conduct. Every time, Vincent's eyes would flash that brilliant and achingly beautiful blue color as he came. It was quick because the mage's eyes usually fluttered shut and when he re-opened them they were no longer blue. Now watching his mate…the man he loved have to drink medicine and constantly worry about his safety…it secretly tore Vilkas apart inside. Watching this was worse then anything his wolf could have ever done to him, silly as it sounded. He'd give anything to give Vincent and carefree life. But fate had not dealt them that hand. He had to make the best of what the Gods had given him and fight to keep the things he loved the most.

"Vilkas, is everything alright?"

Vilkas snapped out of his thoughts and saw Vincent smiling at him a bit sadly. They both knew everything wasn't alright. "No. We need to talk."

Vincent nodded, his posture going a bit stiff. Vilkas hated that. "Okay."

Vilkas ran a hand through his hair. Where to even begin. He decided to start with something simple. "What have you been working on?"

Vincent gestured to the desk. "I've been trying to make sense out of Daric's last sane words to me." He shook his head and let a scoff pass his lips. "Sane words being the key here…"

"Have you found out anything…?"

"Actually…" Vincent moved from his spot and walked over to his desk. He picked up one of the books and held it out for Vilkas to see. "I found this old book in the library. It has a lot of the time before in it. In a time of Dragons."

"Dragons eh…?" Vilkas didn't like the sound of that.

"Morokei means something in that strange old writing…See here." He pointed out the word on the page. "Unfortunately, I can't read this."

Vilkas took the book from him and examined it closely. "If it is what I think it is, only those who can speak Dragon tongue would understand this. Like, the greybeards up on the mountain." Vilkas concluded. "The jarl of Windhelm. They say he can speak the words."

"I found mention of it in one other place." Vincent pulled a slightly newer book from the desk. "Its listed here that the arch mage of the collage of Winterhold has something called Morokei. It doesn't go into specifics about what Morokei is but it says she is in possession of it."

"She?" Vilkas blinked. "I thought the arch mage was a man."

"It was, up until a few months back. Apparently he passed away and the new Arch mage was one of his promising young students." Vincent stepped behind the desk and leaned on it. "I've wrote to her yesterday and asked her to come meet me here and bring whatever it is Morokei is. I sent the courier out with the message last night. Hopefully it will reach her sometime today and I will have an answer by tomorrow, if the Gods are good."

Vilkas scowled. "You're…inviting her here…?"

Vincent frowned. "Is that a problem?"

"I don't like the idea." Vilkas answered truthfully.

"Why's that Vilkas?" Vincent's voice held no humor.

"Because she's…different and a stranger."

"A mage, you mean." Vincent corrected.

"Aye. That too." Vilkas cleared his throat, feeling the tension in the air thicken. "But mostly because she is a stranger."

Vincent sighed deeply. "I thought you'd feel by now that not all mages are bad."

"You're different."

"Ah. Am I?" Vincent's eyes were sharp and almost cold. "How am I different Vilkas?"

"I've never seen you cut down an innocent man with magic."

"Oh?" He came back from around the desk. "Cadrian made me do horrible things Vilkas. I did them without question because I felt I needed to in order to keep my sister safe. How do you know if I was no better then the mages you hate?"

Vilkas was stunned for a moment. Vincent kept eye contact, unflinchingly so. Those copper eyes were trying to be cold but Vilkas could see the pain in them. He knew that look too well. A mask is all it was. He knew, because he used to wear that mask before Vincent came into his life.

He reached out and cupped Vincent's face in his hands. He saw Vincent's body twitch at the contact and that mask crumble, ever so slightly. "Because I know you. We've all done horrible things…things we wouldn't have normally done in the name of love."

Just like that, the mask was gone. Vincent's defenses were down and he relaxed into Vilkas touch. "Just…trust me Vilkas. I feel like this is the closest chance we'll have to making sense of what Daric told me. Please, just trust me."

"I do trust you, with my life even." Vilkas leaned in and gently brushed his lips against Vincent's. It was a brief but soothing gesture and the tension ebbed away. Vilkas was unwilling to bring up the Daric subject seeing as the redhead finally relaxed but deep down, he knew he couldn't let this sit. "Vincent…"

"Hmmm?" Vincent pulled back slightly so he could look into Vilkas' eyes.

"About Daric…are you sure that…you're alright?"

Vincent's full lips pulled into a straight line. He glanced behind him at the mounted Wuuthrad and the shield of Ysgramor. They had taken them back from the tomb once they had left and Vincent had the ancient weaponry mounted for display. "Vilkas…do we need to bring this up again? I'm fine."

"Tell me the truth, Vincent." Vilkas crossed his arms. "We shouldn't lie to each other."

Vincent scoffed. "So, what. You're just going to become an open book with me? Just like that?"

"Aye." Vincent spoke, surprising Vincent and himself. "If that's what it takes."

Vincent seemed to contemplate those words for a moment. "Okay. Fine. You want the truth?"

"Aye."

"I'm not okay Vilkas." He answered with a stiff shrug. "I haven't been okay for a long time. Not since I lost Grace. Daric's betrayal broke me, Vilkas. I thought I could trust him. I thought he was my friend. He claimed he did it to save me…heh." He shook his head. "I would have rather been dead."

"Vincent…"

"Truth be told Vilkas…I wanted to save Daric. Save him while there was still something left of him to save. Maybe because I wanted to honor the way he used to be. But there was no saving him, was there?" Vincent stared down at his gloved hands. "He'd condemned himself. Skjor and Kodlak's death…those were done by his hand and by his own volition. There was no redemption and there was nothing left for me to save. He was gone already."

"You sound like you loved him." Vilkas could feel bile forming in his throat at the thought.

"Like a brother only. Do not misunderstand, Vilkas. I never had romantic feelings for Daric. Maybe if he had stayed the way he was, he could have had a chance but…those days are long gone and he changed for the worse. Grace told me…or…whatever Grace is now, told me that Daric's love was false and bitter. She was right and deep down I always knew. That's why I kept my distance. Something in me screamed that he was…unhinged."

"So you never loved him?"

Vincent smiled slightly. "Jealous?" Vilkas narrowed his eyes and growled, not answering. It made Vincent chuckle. "Stupid question. Sorry. No Vilkas. I never loved him in a romantic way. "

"Good." At least the mage was smiling again. Vilkas cleared his throat adopting a more gentler tone. "Will you be okay?"

Vincent seemed to think for a moment. "I'll be better once we find out what exactly Morokei is and Cadrian is a pile of ash." He approached Vilkas again and ran a hand up his arm. Vilkas almost shivered at the contact, taking in that rich fiery scent. "But…for now as long as I have you I'll rest easy."


	26. Already Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Vincent's reassurance that nothing bad was going to happen, Vilkas was not convinced. He practically demanded to be present at the meeting and Vincent seemed wise enough not to argue. He did, however state that Vilkas had to be on his 'best behavior'. Vilkas assumed that meant, no telling her that 'mages are all evil and will use their gods forsaken powers to kill people and get what they want'. He could handle that. 
> 
> Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Jealous!Vilkas, Very Possessive!Vilkas, Porn, So many feels.

\----  
\---  
\--

 

By the end of the week, Vilkas had what he needed…but it would need to wait. The arch mage had replied to Vincent's summons and would show up sometime today. Vilkas stalked through the halls of Jorrvaskr, scaring Athis with a particularly aggravated growl as he walked past.

Mages were coming into his territory. **_GODS, THRICE DAMNED MAGES._** Vincent was that rare exception to his strict, _'no mages allowed'_ rule. Now more were coming. Vilkas was not a pleased Nord today. No he was not.

Despite Vincent's reassurance that nothing bad was going to happen, Vilkas was not convinced. He practically demanded to be present at the meeting and Vincent seemed wise enough not to argue. He did, however state that Vilkas had to be on his _'best behavior'._ Vilkas assumed that meant, no telling her that _'mages are all evil ,and will use their Gods forsaken powers to kill people and get what they want'._ He could handle that. Maybe.

Vilkas Headed out to the front of Jorrvaskr alone to greet the…traveling dignitaries? Guild master? He wasn't sure, and the thought of that mage in his home made him not care WHO the hell they were. He just wanted them to leave and leave quickly. He saw two figures approaching Jorrvaskr and instantly got into his stiff militaristic stance. His sword was openly displayed on his back, a quick and very precise warning that there would be _'no funny business'._ He kept his face blank and tried not to look aggravated at their approach. He may be failing in that slightly.

The first figure that caught his eye was in the one in front. She was an imperial woman with black hair and tan skin. A standard imperial, in Vilkas' opinion. She was pretty, he supposed but she couldn't hold a candle to Vincent. He almost smiled at the thought. Vincent would have hated being called _'pretty'_. He managed to keep the smile from his face. The woman was dressed in expensive looking robes of a deep blue, brown and gold color. He saw the staff on her back and almost cringed. He let his gaze quickly dart to her companion.

A Khajiit male in Novice robes stood beside her. So not only was he a mage, but he was one of the cat folk too. Wonderful day this was tuning out to be. Vilkas personally had nothing against the Khajiit, but old prejudices in Skyrim die hard.

"Ah, Greetings." The woman was first to speak and extended her hand for Vilkas to take. "I am Arch mage, Cassandra. You must be the Harbinger. It is a pleasure."

Vilkas glanced at her hand and then back to her. He stayed in his stiff posture and ignored the offered hand. "I am the Master at arms of the companions. I am not the Harbinger."

She blinked, slightly surprised. "Oh…I thought the Harbinger would be greeting us."

"He got tied up with last minute paper work. I am to bring you to him."

"Oh." She said again. She didn't sound disappointed, just slightly put out.

Vilkas turned heel and walked casually inside without another word. Vincent would be waiting in the practice yard for the visitors and that was where Vilkas was to lead them. Part of him felt like a glorified messenger boy, but then again, he was doing a favor for the man he loved, so it wasn't so bad.

He led them through the mead hal,l and it was lively this time of day. All eyes turned on them as they made their way past the table and through the doors on the other end. Torvar blinked through his drunken haze at the newcomers and Nadia stifled a cruel chuckle as they passed. Farkas and Aela just regarded them with slight suspicion, while Ria and Athis openly gawked at stared at the pair. Vilkas risked a glance at the mages and found them uncomfortable from the stares they were receiving. He almost smirked. Good.

"Stay here for a moment." Vilkas announced once they got outside to the training yard and he approached Vincent who was standing with his back toward them, inspecting one of the practice dummies. He approached the redhead and sighed. "Your… _'guests'_ are here."

"Don't sound so happy, Vilkas." Vincent smiled at him and touched him on the shoulder before turning to face the new company with a brilliantly dazzling smile. Vilkas scowled at the physical contact. That hand had meant to comfort and soothe but it just set Vilkas more on edge. He wanted those gloves off…to feel Vincent's skin against his…to inhale his scent and bask in his warmth. Vilkas huffed and gestured for the mages to come over.

Cassandra's reaction was instant, much to Vilkas' chagrin. Her mouth hung open slightly and she looked like she almost tripped over herself. Her eyes were glued to the redhead and Vilkas could see a mix of emotion dance across her brown eyes. Confusion. Curiosity. Surprise. Happiness. Awe. All of them led to something Vilkas didn't like. Something he held very close to his own heart.

Vincent was the first to extend his gloved hand this time. "Hello. I'm Vincent Renalt, Harbinger of the companions. I believe you've already met Vilkas, the Master at arms and my second in command."

It took her a moment but she grasped his hand and shook it, the look on her face was still startled. "Cassandra, Arch mage at the collage of Winterhold…"

Vincent nodded politely. She continued to stare at him in silence which seemed to make more then just Vilkas a bit uncomfortable. Vincent cleared his throat. "Your…companion?"

She blinked, seeming to snap out of her daze. "O-oh! This is one of our apprentices, J'zargo. He'll be accompanying me throughout our visit here…is that alright?"

"That is fine. Make yourselves at home during your stay here." Vincent's words made Vilkas want to cringe, but he held firm. He let his hand fall back down at his side and smiled a bit shyly, at the arch mage. "Care to walk with me while we talk?"

Vilkas could have sworn he saw color rise into her cheeks but it was gone as soon as it had come. "Uh…Yes. Absolutely." She stepped beside Vincent and they began a light stroll around the grounds.

Vilkas stayed a few steps behind with the unfortunate J'zargo, who was doing his best to not look terrified at Vilkas' murderous expression once the leaders weren't looking.

"I'm surprised…" She began when they started their stroll.

"What?" he tried not to laugh. "That I'm not a Nord?"

"Actually…yes." She sounded slightly exasperated. "You're a Breton…and a mage."

Vincent stopped walking for a moment and glanced at her curiously. Vilkas was ready to draw his sword in in a heartbeat if need be. "How'd you know I was a mage?"

"I can feel the magic pouring off of you." She replied somewhat breathless. "It's…powerful. More so than I've ever felt in someone. It's almost like you are what magic is. Sorry…that must sound strange to you and I must be coming off like a foolish girl."

Vilkas grunted a bit too loudly in agreement. Vincent shot him a stern glace before smiling kindly at Arch mage. "I take no offence, my lady. You are correct. I am a mage but I've earned my place here and I'm sure any one of the companions will defend that."

"I will not argue about having another Mage in Skyrim." She smiled and linked an arm with his. Vilkas could feel his pulse race and he wanted to interpose himself between them. He wanted to get her away from what was his and his alone. Acting like a jealous child would currently get him nowhere though. Vincent needed something from her and until he got it Vilkas would have to keep his anger and jealousy in check. So he grit his teeth silently and watched the conversation, like a good bodyguard.

Arch mage Cassandra looked much more comfortable with her arm locked with Vincent's. "You have a beautiful Hall, Harbinger."

Vincent smiled. "Yes, I think so too. I have not been the Harbinger long, but I hope I'll have many long years here."

"I haven't been Arch mage long either." She sighed. "The world just seems to be falling apart around us."

Vincent blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Surely you've heard?" She gasped and gripped his arm tighter as if fearful. Vilkas swallowed the growl threatening to erupt from his throat. "The Emperor was assassinated here in Skyrim! Killed, right under the nose of all his guard! The killer got away too…they say it was the Dark brotherhood."

"That is truly unfortunate."

"Not only that, Harbinger. They say the Thieves guild now has a grip in all the Holds! Can you believe it? More reason to lock your doors at night. Then the business with our Collage and the announcement of my place as Arch mage… We had also heard word of the new Harbinger…though I admit you were not what I expected."

"Well, hopefully I can meet your expectations."

"I'm actually delighted!" She beamed.

Vilkas felt his fists tighten at his side. She was obviously flirting with him and it was driving Vilkas crazy. Or maybe she wasn't and it was just Vilkas' overactive and often possessively jealous brain playing tricks on him. Could be…Either way, he didn't like her. AT ALL.

"The world needs strong leaders, Vincent Renalt." She smiled. "I'm sure you'll lead the companions wisely."

He nodded, seeming grateful for her compliment. "I appreciate it, Miss Cassandra…."

"Just Cassandra." She waved it off. "I was disowned by my family long ago and I ran here to Skyrim to make a name for myself."

"Arch mage, hum? Mission accomplished."

She laughed behind her hand and Vilkas fought the urge to roll his eyes. He glanced at the Khajiit beside him to find him in a similar disposition. At the sound of his boss' giggle, he seemed to sigh in an annoyed fashion and roll his eyes. Maybe the large feline wasn't so bad for a mage…Vilkas still didn't trust him though.

"Now, I'd hate to ruin such a lovely visit with business but I did ask for you here for a reason." Vincent spoke carefully. "Shall we retire to my office?"

"Absolutely. Lead the way, Harbinger."

Vincent led her back inside and down the stairs toward the living quarters. She seemed to be able to march through the hall with more confidence, now connected to the Harbinger. Maybe her intentions were innocent but Vilkas had almost wanted to push her down the stairs. He didn't for a few good reasons. The reason he tried to convince himself of was that she was just some silly girl that he had nothing to fear from. Vincent was a good man and wouldn't stray from Vilkas' side for such an addle headed wench. That and Vincent would be furious if Vilkas intentionally harmed their guest without hostile action being raised form said mages in the first place. That's the reason Vilkas wanted to believe…The real reason was that she was gripping Vincent's arm so tightly that he would probably tumble down the stairs as well. Not worth hurting his mate just to hurt her.

Vilkas felt ashamed in a way. Almost as if his wolf was still there inside him. He was still just as possessive…just as territorial… and now he had no excuse and nothing to blame it on. He'd drown himself in blood to keep Vincent safe; even though he knew the mage was perfectly capable of defending himself. He'd felt like he'd told himself this a million times already. He told himself to relax, to not worry…but he couldn't help it. Gods he was trying so hard to meet Vincent on even ground but the terrain seemed to keep warping and fluctuating around them. That, or someone or something would come between them. How he wished he could just rip the barriers down and hold Vincent tight against him. There, he'd never let go and Vincent wouldn't have to be afraid anymore…. So Vilkas wouldn't have to be afraid anymore…

"Take a seat, Miss Cassandra and we'll get started." Vincent spoke, sitting in his own seat behind his desk. Some of the clutter and books had been cleared away for company but he still had a map of Skyrim across his desk. Vilkas leaned against the wall slightly and folded his arms over his chest. J'zargo leaned against the wall opposite him but with less intimidation. He was not here as a bodyguard…Vilkas could tell that right away. More like a witness perhaps?

Cassandra took the seat offered and folded her hands politely in her lap. Despite her smile, Vilkas could see the rigidity of her posture. She must have been raised in a 'proper' family. Probably very strict by how straight she was sitting. Vilkas ferreted that information away for later use.

Vincent leaned forward, suddenly all business. "What can you tell me about Morokei?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I'd be easier to show you. Can I?"

Vilkas saw Vincent's eyes flick up to meet his before shooting back down to Cassandra. "Yes. Okay."

Cassandra gestured to J'zargo to come over, which he did without a word. Vilkas instantly stiffened, ready to strike like a cobra if the mages tried anything funny…but J'zargo simply pulled out a strange, ugly looking mask from the leather bag he had at his side and handed it to his superior. He then re-took his place near the wall.

"This…" Cassandra spoke placing the mask on the table. "..is Morokei."

"A…mask." Vincent seemed confused. He ran his gloved hand along the strange downward arrow shape on it's brow. "An obviously magical mask…but just a mask."

"Not just a mask." she corrected. "A dragon priest."

Vilkas perked up slightly as did Vincent. "Dragon priest?"

"Well…yes. His mask anyway. He, himself is just a pile of ash now."

"You killed it?" Vincent seemed surprised.

She shifted a bit uncomfortably in her seat. "Well…yes. I suppose I did. I mean…I used the elevation to my advantage and he had his weaknesses…" she shook her head but Vilkas caught the slightly haunted look in her eye. "It's over now…he's dead and this was all that was left. That and the staff of Magus…which is currently locked up at our Collage. You understand."

Vincent nodded and picked up the mask. Vilkas could tell by his body language that he was clearly frustrated. This seemed like a dead end and Daric's last words were making less sense. "Morokei…how did you come by it?"

"Hun?" She asked, seemingly not understanding the question.

"Where did you find this? The mask…? The Dragon priest?"

"The Labyrinthian." She spoke softly.

"Labyrinthian?" Vincent set the mask aside and almost glared down at his map. "That isn't marked on any map of Skyrim I've seen."

"There's no need for it to be." Cassandra informed him. "It's a cursed place. I was only there on orders and if I have any wish it's to never go back, Harbinger."

"Where is it?"

She blinked. "Beg pardon?"

"Where on the map is the Labyrinthian?"

"…" She had back for a moment and eyed him somewhat warily. "Why do you want to know?"

"I need to…follow up on something. Something important. Can you tell me where it is…?"

Cassandra seemed suspicious and almost narrowed her eyes. "No offence, Harbinger but I really don't want you to send your men to their deaths. That place is evil."

"No offense to you, Arch mage…" Vincent countered in his most authoritative voice. "But I can decide that for myself. I mean no disrespect to you nor the memory you clearly hold of such a place but it is of the utmost importance that I find it." His eyes softened and he relaxed slightly. "Please."

"…" She sighed again. "Hjaalmarch. Near the center of Skyrim." She pointed to the map. "It sits astride a pass through the mountains southeast of Morthal. You can approach from the north or south end of the pass."

"Thank you." Vincent replied with somewhat visible relief and marked the place she pointed out on the map with a quill and ink.

"It's not that easy." she shifted uncomfortably. "You need a special key to get inside."

"What key?"

"You need the Torc of the Labyrinthian."

"Ah. You have this key, yes?"

"Back at the Collage. Yes. I did not think to bring it with me."

Vincent tapped his fingers on his desk rapidly. "It is a lot to ask, Miss Cassandra, but I need that key. May we borrow it?"

She glanced back at J'zargo who made a face and shrugged in a clueless manner. She turned back to the Harbinger, her shoulders squared. "I…yes. I suppose you can. When we return to the collage I will have it arranged to be brought to you.

"Thank you again."

She stared at him almost sadly. "You won't be thanking me later, Harbinger. Not after you've been inside that place."

\-------  
"Are you sure I can't talk you out of this?" She smiled slightly strained. Vincent and Vilkas accompanied the mages to the town entrance and down to the stables.

"No, Ma'am. I'm sorry." He smiled back, a little more lighthearted. "I may not be a Nord but you'll find I'm stubborn enough to pass for one."

Finally her smile seemed genuine. "Ah. I suppose so."

"If you don't mind me asking, how long as it been since you've been there?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "About two months ago? Honestly it feels like longer but it hasn't been."

"I see."

"I'm glad we had the time to talk, Harbinger." She'd been clutching his arm the whole walk and finally let go. Vilkas felt his posture relax just slightly. "The Eight know it's been a long time since mages received a good reception in a place like Skyrim."

Vincent seemed slightly started for a moment but quickly recovered. "Y-yes. Well…they have their reasons for treating mages this way I suppose. We'll have to do our best to change their minds, right?"

"Right." She beamed.

"Mistress…" J'zargo spoke in a tone that Vilkas found to be slightly sarcastic. "The carriage wants to be off soon. We should disembark."

"Ah, time flies." Her eyes locked with Vincent's and she looked like she wanted so desperately to say something. Her mouth opened and closed three times before she laughed nervously and just shook her head. "I look forward to future dealings with the Companions. " She seemed to settle on.

"As do I. Safe journey, Ma'am." He turned away without another word and back up toward town. Vilkas followed instantly without a passing word to the mages, relived this was over.

"Two months." Vilkas was the first to speak however once Jorrvaskr was back in sight.

"Yeah." Vincent replied numbly. "Plenty of time for Cadrian to sneak in and set up shop."

"Do you really think he's there? Hiding in the Labyrinthian?"

"Where else?" Vincent huffed. "I don't know how he got inside without the 'key'. Maybe he knew another way in or he followed Cassandra in. It's the only lead I have right now Vilkas and it's the only reason I can gather about Daric's last words. He said Morokei and Morokei was a Dragon priest in the Labyrinthian."

"So what now?" Vilkas asked, holding open the door for Vincent.

"As soon as we get the key, we head off to the Labyrinthian. The less time we give Cadrian to think the better." Vincent nodded to his companions in the hall and they all raised a glass at his passing. Vilkas followed the redhead downstairs and back to the office.

"Is it wise?"

Vilkas saw Vincent's shoulders visibly slump. "Is what wise, Vilkas?"

"Everything." he crossed his arms. "Trusting Daric's words…trusting Her. Why believe it?"

"Neither had a reason to lie to me."

"Daric had EVERY reason to lie to you Vincent." Vilkas uncrossed his arms and invaded his mate's personal space. "And her…" he scoffed. "She obviously doesn't have her head on straight."

"Is this about the Eight comment she made?"

"Her faith has nothing to do with it."

"Was it because she's a mage?" Vincent rolled his eyes looking slightly irritated.

"I won't lie. It's part of the reason but not the whole thing."

"Then why, Vilkas?" Vincent asked raising his voice slightly. "Why try to disprove the only lead I have?!"

"Because someone has to keep you on the straight and narrow."

"Oh please." Vincent snorted and crossed his arms. "Like you're one to talk about not being impulsive and not loosing control. You looked like you wanted to murder her Vilkas."

"I didn't like her." He hissed, feeling his blood begin to pump faster.

"Because she was a mage?!" Vincent pried with a sneer. "Not all mages are bad Vilkas! How many times do we have to go over this?!"

"I just didn't like her!" Vilkas un-strapped his sword and dropped in harshly on Vincent's desk.

"Give me one good reason Vilkas! One! Beside the fact she's a mage, give me a reason you didn't like her!"

Vincent found himself pushed into their room and practically thrown on their bed. Before he could sit up, Vilkas' weight was atop him, pinning him down and capturing both his wrists with one large hand. Their faces were inches from each other and Vilkas could feel the adrenaline coursing rapidly through his body. Vincent stared back ay him with steely determination. He wanted an answer. By the nine he'd get one.

"You want a reason why?" Vilkas growled and watched his mate waver slightly as a shiver passed through his frame. "Fine. I'll tell you. I hated how she looked at you…how she touched you…how close she got… She intruded into my home and touched what was mine." He leaned down and breathed in Vincent's intoxicating scent. He let his stubble brush up against the fragile skin on Vincent's neck and relished in Vincent's full body shudder.

"Vilkas I…" Vincent stopped, pulling against the grip that Vilkas had on his wrists. Vilkas didn't want to release him but the look in his lover's eyes convinced him otherwise. Vilkas pulled his hand away and sat up slightly. Vincent sat up only for a moment to remove his coat and place it aside. Then he lay back down and folded his now free hands around himself.

"I've upset you." Vilkas stated his voice almost deadpanned.

"No." The redhead instantly responded. "I'm…okay. I'm not mad."

Vilkas reached down and pulled one of the redhead's hands away from his body. He slowly pulled the leather glove off and set it near his discarded coat. His eyes slowly ran across the mage from head to toe, drinking in the form of his lover. Clothed, the mage appeared slender and fragile. Vilkas knew better. He'd seen Vincent naked enough times to know differently. His mouth and hands had traced Vincent's wiry muscled frame before.

He reached down with his spare hand and rested it on Vincent's bent knee. Slowly, his hand moved up over the leathery fabric. His rough hand rested on Vincent's inner thigh and he almost smiled at the obvious tensing on muscle and the visible shiver. Vilkas continued upward, ignoring the part that Vincent probably wanted him to touch. His hand flattened against the black vest and white undershirt the mage usually wore before moving up and cupping his lily white neck.

Vilkas took a moment, just to look into his eyes before flicking his vest and shirt open. He hefted Vincent's torso up for a moment to pull him out of the fabric before laying him back down again. He took off Vincent's other glove while he was at it, and then worked on the claps on his own armor. He noted that Vincent stayed silent, just watching him undress with a softening look in his copper eyes. Vilkas rid himself of his armor and stood up to rest it on his armor rack.

Vilkas sighed for a moment before turning back to the bed. His eyes drank in the sight of his mage again and caused him to swallow a bit thickly. He took his boots off as well before returning to the bed and pulling Vincent's boots off as well.

"You're mine." Vilkas finally spoke; his voice was thick with arousal and possessiveness. It wasn't meant as a question. He let his hand rub against Vincent's clothed calf, hoping the redhead understood. Luckily for him, he seemed to.

"Yes." He responded simply. Vilkas glanced up at his mate's eyes and saw understanding in them. He thanked the Gods for that. Vincent held out his arms for Vilkas to come and occupy which he gladly did. Vilkas leaned up to kiss Vincent's lush bottom lip and moving away before Vincent could kiss him back. He heard the mage huff and grip his shirt, trying to pull him back down but Vilkas resisted. Instead he grabbed the mage's wrist and brought it to his lips.

He left a butterfly kiss upon the tender skin before kissing up and nipping at the scars on the inside of Vincent's palm. He felt Vincent's fingers twitch and flex against his cheek as Vilkas' tongue prodded the scarred flesh. He glanced down at the mage and met his eyes. Vincent's lips were slightly parted and a delicate blush had formed up onto his cheeks. He looked beautiful…but Vilkas kept the comment to himself. He knew if he said it, those plump lips would turn pouty and he'd huff, indianite at being called 'beautiful'. Usually in the throws of passion, Vilkas could get away with calling him such.

Vincent sat up and slowly moved his hand from Vilkas' grip. He grabbed the hem of Vilkas' shirt and hoisted it over his head. Vilkas' lips curved up slightly when he saw those copper eyes roam over his freshly exposed torso. Vilkas decided to pull his pants and small clothes down as well, giving the redhead more to look at. As predicted, Vincent's gaze shot appreciating downwards and a delicate red blush came to his cheeks. Vincent managed to tear his gaze away to rid himself of his own clothing before reaching into the bedside table to get 'Aela's gift'.

Vincent coated his fingers in the clear liquid before hiking his legs up and slipping his fingers down his torso and into himself. Vilkas watched; his throat going slightly dry as his eyes locked on Vincent's thrusting fingers. Vincent had bitten his own lip to stifle any noises he was making as he set about his task. It was Vilkas' turn to pry his eyes away from a rather pleasing display so he could lean in to kiss Vincent's mouth. Vincent mewled against Vilkas' parted lips and seemed to work his fingers faster; his soft moans and gentle cries, no longer pained.

"Enough?" Vilkas asked softly.

Vincent nodded and pulled his fingers out with a groan. He then took more liquid from the jar and smoothed it over Vilkas' erect manhood. Vilkas bit back the loud growl that almost erupted from his throat and grabbed Vincent's leg instead. He pulled the sitting mage in close, until he was almost seated in Vilkas' lap. He lifted Vincent's legs under his arms and pulled him in closer. Vincent smiled, getting the idea and lifted his hips.

Vilkas didn't rush him and let his smaller lover set the pace. Vincent gripped Vilkas' shoulders for leverage before lowering himself slowly onto Vilkas' hard cock. They both moaned as Vilkas sank, inch by inch inside, until Vincent was fully seated and gritting his teeth in slight discomfort.

"Too much?" Vilkas hated how he sounded so breathless.

Vincent shook his head. "No…Just… Give me a moment…"

Vilkas made a soft noise of confirmation, wanting so badly to move but resisting. After what felt like an age, Vincent shifted his hips slightly and let out a lusty purr.

"A-alright."

Vilkas helped Vincent lift off him slightly before gripping his legs tightly and guiding him back down, harder and faster then the first time. Vincent's hands threaded in Vilkas' hair and held tight as their lovemaking grew faster. Vilkas gripped him tight and rested his head in the crook of the mages neck. There, he left feverish kisses and nips that were sure to leave marks. He latched on to the old scar he had put there and licked the sensitive skin. Vincent's heat around him was driving him crazy and his scent was so strong and sweet that Vilkas felt he could drown in the ecstasy of it.

He felt Vincent's hips snap quickly and erratically. He wouldn't last much longer, Vilkas knew. With one last nip at the old mate mark, Vilkas pulled his head away to stare deeply into those copper orbs.

"V-Vilkas…!" The redhead managed to cry before he rolled his hips just the right way and exploded between them without being touched.

And there they were. Beautiful, endless blue behind fluttering curtains of fragile black lace. Vilkas growled loudly at the tightening of Vincent's passage and emptied himself inside with a deep husky growl. Vincent's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, letting a soft "ooh…" pass his lips before sagging exhausted, against Vilkas' body. Vilkas lifted Vincent's hips slightly so his now softening cock could side out of him, and then gently held him in his strong arms. He idly stroked the mage's hair, waiting for them both to come down from the high…knowing when Vincent next opened his eyes, they would be copper again.

\--------  
"It's not my birthday." Vincent stated, looking at the now half dressed Vilkas.

Vilkas had thrown on his pants and pulled something out from under the bed, claiming it to be a 'gift' for Vincent. "I don't need an excuse to get you something." Vilkas paused. "When is your birthday, anyway?"

Vincent rolled his copper eyes. "The 20th of Evening star."

Vilkas paused. "…About that date…It-"

"-should be familiar, I suppose." Vincent smiled and rolled over on his back, keeping the covers up to his stomach. "It's not exactly a happy date."

"Why's that?" It did sound familiar but Vilkas couldn't put his finger on it.

"Well, two reasons." Vincent stared at the ceiling. "One, it's the date of the Invocation of the Daedra Prince Molag Bal. Second, my mum was murdered."

"On your birthday?" Vilkas blinked, now feeling horrible for asking.

"Yeah." Vincent met his eyes. "Don't give me that look Vilkas. It was a long time ago and you couldn't have known."

Vilkas sat on the edge of the bed, taking his gifts with him and keeping them in his lap. "Doesn't stop me from feeling bad now."

"Well, you'll just have to make my birthdays much better from now on, right?"

Vilkas allowed himself a small smile. "Right."

"Soooo, what'd you get me!?" Vincent flipped like a switch and sat up like an excited child.

"Thought you didn't want them."

"I never said I didn't want them. I just said it wasn't my birthday."

"Should I wait to give them to you then?"

Vincent pouted. "No."

Vilkas couldn't help but chuckle. "Fine. Here." He handed Vincent the first one.

It was large and slightly heavy. The mage blinked and unwrapped the cloth from the gift, eyes scanning it once it had been relieved. It was a beautifully crafted blade, obviously Skyforge steel from the look of it. It was longer then a long sword but shorter then a two handed one. The hilt was adorned with a stylized wolf with icy blue stones for the eyes.

"It's beautiful Vilkas." The redhead marveled. "What kind of sword is it though?"

"A bastard sword."

Vincent's lips pulled into a mock pout. "Excuse me."

"You know what I mean. Don't tease."

The pout went away and the mage's face brightened. "Thank you, love…are you sure I can wield something like this, though?"

"It can be wielded two handed…in fact you will most likely need to. You were doing so well in your training; I figured you should have your own blade."

Vincent's smile turned coy. "I like practicing with your blade, Vilkas."

Vilkas coughed and rolled his eyes to try and forget the image that put in his head. "Do you want it or not?"

The mage smirked again, still taking the statement dirty. "Always."

Vilkas face-palmed. "Vincent…"

"I know what you mean, love. Relax. Yes. I love it. Thank you. What should I do with my mace, though? I don't want to carry both around."

"It's from Cadrian." Vilkas growled. "Throw it into the sea for all I care."

"It's ebony, though." Vincent protested weakly. "We could sell it."

"I don't care. Do what you'd like with it."

Vincent nodded and ran his fingers along the hilt, smiling fondly. "Okay."

Vilkas quickly thrust the other package in Vincent's lap and resolutely faced the wall. Vilkas could see Vincent give him a curious stare out of the corner of his eye and put the blade aside. Vilkas shut his eyes as he heard the mage opening the gift and the deafening silence that followed.

After an age, Vincent finally spoke. "Vilkas…is this…?"

Vilkas took a deep breath and turned to face the mage. He saw that Vincent had slung the gift on and was now alternating between staring down at it and back up at Vilkas. So Vilkas steeled himself and took a deep breath.

"An Amulet of Mara?" He feigned surprise as if he'd never seen it before. "You're not married? Surprising."

He saw Vincent's lips twitch as he gained the mage's full attention. Vilkas wasn't sure if he was about to laugh or cry. "I-Interested in me, are you?" Seemed the mage decided to play along.

Vilkas let a warm smile come to his face, one that only Vincent ever got to see. He scooted a bit closer on the bed and took Vincent's hands in his own. "I am." He began resolutely. He'd already come so far and there was no backing out now. He knew they were already mated and this whole thing was unnecessary. He knew this and Vincent knew this. They were already married in their hearts. Now all that was left was to make it official in the eyes of society…not that Vilkas really gave a fuck what anyone thought of them.

"Vilkas…"

Vilkas tightened his grip on Vincent's hands and looked deeply into his eyes. "I'd be glad to stand at your side until the Divines take us…If you'll have me."

Vincent almost choked back a cry as a tear leaked free. He smiled though and took a hand back from Vilkas' grasp to wipe it aside. He chuckled and smiled brightly despite the tears. "Sure as hell trumps my birthday."

Vincent smiled too, finding his smile infectious. "well…?"

Vincent nodded. "I will." He laughed. "Together, then."

"Together." Vilkas echoed.

"We'll…sort it all out after this whole…mess…is cleared up."

Vilkas nodded, knowing exactly what 'mess' it was that needed tidying. "Aye."

"So…you're sure?" Vincent pressed. "No going back once it's done Vilkas. You'll never be rid of me."

"Amulet or not, I wouldn't let you go." Vilkas stated firmly.

Vincent nodded, satisfied with that response and he pulled Vilkas into a kiss. There he whispered two soft words against Vilkas' mouth…The exact same words Vilkas had used only an hour or so before.

"You're mine."

Vilkas couldn't help but chuckle. "Aye."


	27. Not to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's almost endgame, my boy." Came a voice that Vilkas didn't recognize, He didn't even look up or around to see who it was. He didn't care anymore. "Where is Talos now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Disturbing images

Vilkas' heart was in his throat and the only sound he could hear over its rapid beating was the sound of his footsteps pounding on the stone beneath him. He reached out to grasp his mate, who now only stood within arms reach. He almost sighed in relief as his hand made contact and clenched the fabric of his lover's coat tightly. Vilkas tried to speak but found he had no voice to do so. He tried to call out when Vincent didn't seem to respond to his touch. Alas, Vincent remained still as stone, resolutely facing away from Vilkas.

Vilkas tried to turn him but he found that he didn't have the strength to do so. His limbs felt heavy, as if he'd been fighting for three years straight. Maybe he had? It didn't matter now. He needed Vincent to look at him, needed Vincent to tell him everything was going to be okay. He needed that warmth and that comfort that he had foolishly denied himself for so long. He just needed Vincent. It was all he ever needed.

As if reading his thoughts, the mage stirred. Vilkas could have yelled in happiness, had he still the ability to speak. Slowly, Vincent turned in his grasp to face the warrior. Vilkas' relived smile slowly turned to horror.

Those eyes were no longer copper, but a stark and fiery red that seemed to consume his whole eye. His skin was unhealthy and cold, as if he'd laid in the snow for three days and died of it. His every movement sent sparks of electricity coiling around him and nearly making Vilkas recoil.

Vincent's mouth opened his lips now pale and nearly white from lack of circulation. A loud ragged, soggy sounding cough erupted from his throat and blood began to leak out. It flowed much faster then blood should, staining the front of his coat, chin, neck and torso Vincent's mouth stayed agape as blood continued to flow, staining the floor beneath their feet. Vincent reached out and gripped Vilkas' shoulder tightly, digging his nails into his flesh. Vilkas felt paralyzed on the spot. He wanted to disbelieve what he was seeing, hoping this was all a horrible nightmare and he'd wake any second now from it with the mage safe and sound in his arms.

But when Vincent's body suddenly burst into flames, Vilkas found the ability to scream. The flames licked at the mages body and he fell forward into Vilkas' embrace. Vincent's body was almost molten hot to the touch, but Vilkas persevered. He gripped the mage tightly against him, ignoring the scalding pain and fire that was sure to consume him as well. He cried, tears sizzling as they left his eye and evaporating before they could roll down his cheek. All too soon the flames snuffed out, leaving Vilkas alive with only a few third degree burns on his arms and chest.

He glanced down at the broken body in his arms and felt tears rising to the surface again. The fire was gone…and Vincent's body had seemed untouched by them. There wasn't a burn on him…yet he was dead…Vilkas could tell. His now red eyes stared blankly up at Vilkas with no life left in them. His mouth was slightly open but no more blood flowed. He wasn't breathing and his heart had stilled. There was nothing left…and Vilkas was alone.

"This is a dream…" he heard himself whisper. Broken. Defeated. Lost. "This is all just a bad dream. Right?"

Vincent gave no response and stared back at him with those dull lifeless eyes. Vilkas could hear footsteps coming up from behind him but he didn't care. He held the mage protectively against his own body and buried his nose into that crimson red hair. The smell of fire that he had always loved was overpowered with the retched stench of death and old blood.

"It's almost endgame, my boy." Came a voice that Vilkas didn't recognize, He didn't even look up or around to see who it was. He didn't care anymore. "Where is Talos now?"

The voice broke into an eerie laugh that made Vilkas' skin crawl. He wanted it all to stop. He wanted to rip this person's throat out and crush it beneath his heel. He wanted to die. He wanted to wake up.

A sudden sharp pain pierced his back and made all the air rush out of him in an instant. He looked weakly down at the small crystalline protrusion jabbing out of his chest. What was meant to be blue was now thick and red with his blood. It had come inches from skewering Vincent's body, not that Vilkas could have done anything about it even if it had. He felt…cold. It started where the wound began…first it was searing hot, almost as hot as Vincent's flames had burned right before his death. Then slowly…the cold swept in. It started to make him numb to the pain…almost as if he was going to sleep. Vilkas felt his eyes grow heavy and his vision blur. He fell atop Vincent's body, still clutching to the mage with his burnt arms.

As he felt his life ebb away, he prayed that Vincent forgave him. He had been powerless to protect the man he loved the most and let his life slip through his fingers. He'd broken his promise. He let out a dry, heaving chuckle. Sovngarde awaited…or at least he hoped so…when he got there…IF he ever got there…he hoped Vincent would be waiting for him. It wouldn't be paradise without him. Not anymore.

 

Vilkas' eyes snapped open and he took a sharp intake of breath as if he hadn't been breathing. His heart raced for a moment as he took in his surroundings from his laying position and found himself in the room he and Vincent shared. Speaking of, the mage grumbled something against Vilkas chest and clung tighter to him. He was alive and whole as far as Vilkas could tell and allowed himself to relax. He ran a hand through the mage's red tresses and listened to the contented purr that was produced.

It was just a dream…

For once, Vilkas wished he could just sleep like a normal person without message from the Gods… Or was it even? Grace had not presented herself to give him a lesson of some sort…and this dream was very reminiscing to the first ones he had started having. Except now they were more vivid…more detailed. This did not give him comfort.

Vilkas glanced over at the bedside table at the object laying on it. The Torc of the Labyrinthian had been delivered yesterday by a courier with a note attached. In a fancy scrawl, Cassandra had wrote to Vincent about how she couldn't wait until the next time she saw him and so forth. Needless to say, Vilkas felt like it was a love letter, despite the mage's reassurance that it wasn't. A lot of arguing and saying, 'You're going to be my husband, not hers,' ended in a pile of tangled limbs and hot kisses. (thankfully they waited until they got back within the Harbinger's quarters.)

Vilkas glanced down when he felt Vincent drawing patters on his skin aimlessly. He could feel Vincent's breath against his skin and the gentle, relaxing caress of his fingers. Vilkas knew what he was thinking. They were going to head to the Labyrinthian today…If Cadrian was there…this could be the end of this madness… It could also be the end for them. This may be the last time he got to hold the mage like this…

Vilkas' grip tightened as if on instinct. He had to stay positive for both of them because he knew Vincent felt the impending gloom too. Farkas and Aela insisted that they come too and more people meant a possibly higher body count. Vilkas knew Vincent would never forgive himself if something happened to Farkas or Aela… He knew Vincent would never forgive himself if Vilkas fell…but Vilkas was willing to. He'd do anything to protect his man… Anything. Death didn't scare Vilkas…not anymore. Neither did the unknown. A life without Vincent…that terrified him. Not that he'd ever admit that….

"We have to get up." Vincent stated quietly, not sounding convinced. He placed his head over Vilkas' heart and quietly listened to his beating heart.

Vilkas sighed. He didn't feel good about this. Maybe it was his dream haunting him but he felt…strange. "aye. We'd better. I know Aela is eager to get going and the less light we waste the better."

Vincent nodded but tensed as a ragged cough escaped his mouth. Vilkas stiffened in his grasp, the dream rapidly flashing back to him before he forced himself to relax. Vincent just had to take his medicine is all… The mage reluctantly pulled away from Vilkas' arms and padded, naked over to his bag. Vilkas thrust the sheet aside and swung his legs over the other end and stood up, straightening his back and hearing a loud satisfying crack as he stretched.

Vincent drank his medicine and they dressed in silence, both feeling the tension rise between them. Vincent pocketed a vile of his medicine and then picked up the Torc. Vilkas watched him with a growing sense of unease. Part of him hoped Cadrian wasn't there… If he was…they were walking into the lair of the beast, blind…but he had to admit it was better then the alternative. If they didn't go after Cadrian, he was sure the mage would just start picking them off, one-by-one. Ria, Tovar, Athis, Njada, Aela, Farkas….they'd all die. Cadrian would find some way to isolate them and leave their bodies as messages to Vincent. Vilkas knew he'd be the last one…He'd die slow and while Vincent watched because that's what Cadrian wanted…to break him.

Vilkas wouldn't let that happen. No one was going to die except that devil…So, into his most likely trapped hell, they would go.

They met Farkas and Aela in the courtyard, ready and raring to go. Vilkas was proud of their dedication to the new Harbinger and his welfare. They had all come a very long way… The wind blew past and Vilkas couldn't help but feel odd. That sense of Foreboding returned and Vilkas tried desperately to squash it. Everything was going to be okay. He'd make it okay.

"Are we ready?" Aela asked, gripping the bow at her side tightly. She seemed tense…she probably hadn't slept. She was itching to get a hold of Cadrian and show him exactly what she thought of him.

Farkas seemed less tense but still fidgety. He was trying to put on a brave face for Vincent but Vilkas knew deep down that Farkas was scared of this turn out. Vilkas was glad he wasn't the only one. "I'm ready." His gravely voice sounded.

"I have the map." Vincent pulled it out of his pocket to show them before putting it back. Vincent had his new Bastard sword strapped to his back after he had sold his mace. The Torc of the Labyrinthian was in the other pocket of his coat, along with a vial of his medicine. He decided not to bring his knapsack in fear of being weighed down too much and Vilkas was inclined to agree.

"Then we are ready." Vilkas nodded, still feeling the hair on his nape wanting to stand on end.

Vincent hesitated. "Before we go…I.." he sighed. "Thank you."

"Thank you? For what?" Farkas asked.

"For…this?" He gestured to all of them. "For everything? You guys didn't need to come with me for this…"

"Of course we do." Aela huffed. "We're not going to let that sick bastard mess with the Companions and our Harbinger. This fight is for all of us now."

"I'm just… sorry it had to come to this." His pretty copper eyes focused on the ground. "Skjor…Kodlak…they wouldn't be dead if…" he just shook his head. "This is my fault. I don't deserve the devotion you all show me."

Vilkas furrowed his brow. He wanted to tell Vincent it wasn't his fault but he knew the mage probably wouldn't believe him. Yes, Skjor and Kodlak would probably still be alive if Vincent had never darkened their doorstep but then he would have never met the love of his life. He sighed and exchanged a look with Aela and Farkas. He decided what he was going to say.

He grabbed Vincent by the shoulder and met his eyes. Vincent had suffered so much in his life and Vilkas just wanted his little mate's nightmare to end. "Death comes for all of us, Vincent. In this life we lead…people die. I know Kodlak and Skjor died fighting, which is what they always wanted. The companions die for each other and you ARE a companion."

"Vilkas…"

"You are our Harbinger." Vilkas spoke, gently squeezing Vincent's shoulder. "I would not trade you for anything."

"Neither would I." Farkas chimed in.

"Me too." Aela added.

Vincent's lips twitched slightly, looking for a brief moment he would cry. He closed his eyes and breathed deep then hugged Vilkas around his middle. "Thank you."

Vilkas couldn't help but smile and ran a hand through his crimson tresses. This wouldn't be the last time, he told himself. They'd make it through this.

"Hey…why are you the one who gets a hug…?" Aela teased.

Vincent laughed, sounding less strained. "sorry." He made to move to hug the others but Vilkas scowled and held the mage tightly against him.

"Come on Vilkas! You're hogging the Harbinger!" Farkas joked with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, let him go. I need a hug!" Aela made a grabby hand with her free hand.

"Hands off, woman." Vilkas growled. "He's mine."

They all shared a laugh, the tension shedding from them for the moment.

 

"This place is huge…" Aela looked around at the raised, snow covered walls.

Vilkas nodded. The Labyrinthian defiantly had lived up to its name. It took them about a hour to navigate the outside of the large structure and about another hour to locate a door. It could have been faster if they had split up but no one seemed willing to do so. Probably the best idea with a psychotic master mage vampire on the loose.

Vincent stopped outside the door and turned to his companions. "Alright, listen everyone. We've done well so far and if Cadrian is in here were up for the fight of our lives. We did well fighting Daric but he's nothing compared to Cadrian's power scope."

Vilkas' lips pulled into a straight line. They had almost died fighting Daric….granted it was a possessed Daric he guessed but they still almost died. If not for those ghosts….

"So I need to tell you guys a thing or two about fighting a mage." Vincent continued. "Cadrian is used to having to use his magic for lethal purposes. Never attack head on when he's casting a spell. Always keep moving and never in a straight line. It's harder for a mage to hit you with magic when you serpentine. Aela."

"Yes?"

"I want you to support us with arrow fire. Keep him distracted. Keep moving."

She grinned. "Can do."

"Farkas and Vilkas."

"Yeah?"

"Aye?"

Vincent breathed out slow. "You'll try to flank him from either side if possible. If not possible, support each other."

"Right." Farkas nodded approvingly.

"Aye." Vilkas also nodded. "What will you be doing?"

"I'm going to try and blast him with magic." The harbinger smiled but then gestured to Vilkas' engagement gift strapped to his back. "If all else fails, I do have this. It's very important that we keep our heads in here. He's a master of manipulation and mind games. Don't listen to anything he says or offers. Okay?"

They all nodded, and Vilkas pushed down the uneasy feeling that began to rise in his gut again. It felt like they were walking into a trap but he need to be strong for them. Now was the perfect time to strike and it would be foolish not to. Vincent pulled out the Torc and unlocked the door, then slowly pushed the heavy door aside. Not a sound filtered from within but Vilkas could feel cold air hitting his face. Vincent went in first, closely followed but Aela and Farkas. With one last look outside, Vilkas followed, holding back the feeling of dread.

After two hours, Vilkas felt his feeling fade. They had been walking around, searching every room they came across and found nothing. Absolutely nothing. If there had been enemies when Cassandra made her way through, they were gone now. She wasn't really specific on the details of her time here, only that she didn't ever want to go back. Vilkas was expecting a bloody massacre in here with that attitude but they found nothing. Maybe Cadrian wasn't here after all.

The frustration didn't show on Vincent's face but Vilkas was close enough to him to see it in his eyes. As much as he never wanted to see Cadrian again, he also wanted this to be over. Vilkas knew how much Vincent hated feeling scared for himself and others; Hated how Cadrian was still allowed to breathe after everything he'd done. It didn't seem fair and this was seriously going to depress the new Harbinger.

"Maybe he packed up and left when he knew we were coming?" Aela offered.

Vincent shook his head. "He'd be stupid to abandon a place like this. Where in Skyrim could he go where he wouldn't be noticed otherwise?"

"There are a lot of Caves and hiding places in Skyrim, Vincent." Farkas spoke up. "He could be anywhere."

Vincent walked into the next room. It was large and only until the gang was about half way in did he see it was a dead end. The Harbinger sighed, letting some of his frustration show.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Aela soothed. "It was a good try."

"none of it makes sense." Vincent huffed. "We've been searching for hours and we've found nothing here. I was so sure…"

Vilkas walked over and put his arms around Vincent. "We'll find him. Don't worry about that. For now…lets head back to Jorrvaskr."

Vincent nodded mutely in his arms…but then they head a door slam. All heads whirled toward the door they came in to find it shut tight. Green smoke started to flow in though vents on the floor. Aela and Farkas booked it to the door and tried to pry it open but it was stuck fast and wouldn't budge even under Farkas' strength.

Vilkas grabbed Vincent and tried to shield him from the rising gas but it entered all their lungs anyway. Vilkas coughed and gagged, feeling his legs start to shake and his consciousness start to fade. He saw Aela and Farkas hit the ground and Vincent fell limp in his grasp. He couldn't hold them up with his fading strength so he fell to the floor with the mage still wrapped in his arms.

He could have sworn he heard laughing before darkness took him.


	28. Skyfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He glanced down and Vincent and saw those red eyes looking back at him sadly. He knew it too. "Vincent…" He croaked out, feeling the tears he'd fought so hard to keep back, start to fall. What could he say? He was sorry? He tried? Should he say he loved Vincent before the end did come? Or was it best left unsaid? "This is a dream…" he heard himself whisper. Broken. Defeated. Lost. He'd said these words in his dream and they fit here as they had before. "This is all just a bad dream. Right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major character death, abuse/torture, disturbing images, angst, violence

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Vilkas groaned at the pounding headache that entered his cranium as his eyes fluttered open. His vision swam and it took him a moment to adjust to his surroundings. He could feel cold stone beneath his cheek and skimmed his calloused hand along the surface to find perchance. When his eyes finally focused back in, he found himself face down in a cell of some sort. He weakly pushed himself up on his knees and tried to take in his surroundings. Aela and Farkas were in cells like his own but Vincent was nowhere to be seen.

Aela was already up and pacing her cell like a trapped animal. Farkas too, was awake but he sat silently by the door of his own cell with his arms crossed. Vilkas felt for his sword but found himself unarmed. By the look of Aela and Farkas, they too were without weapons. However they had been left in their armor.

"Brother…" Farkas perked up. "You're awake."

"Finally." Aela put in, sounding very grumpy. It wasn't wise to cage a wolf.

"A-aye." Vilkas felt the world spin as he tried to get to his feet so he just stayed on the floor. "Where's…Vincent?"

"Haven't seen him." Farkas sighed sadly.

"I was the first up." Aela stopped pacing for a moment. "The boss wasn't here when I did."

"Damnit..!" Vilkas growled. He didn't like being separated from his mate. He didn't like this whole situation. They needed to get out of here. AND NOW! "What the hell happened?"

"A trap. Obviously." Aela grunted and picked at her cage door. It didn't even budge from the impact. "We should have been more careful!"

Vilkas was inclined to agree. They SHOULD have been more careful. Vincent had warned them as such…they were not messing with some whelp here. Vilkas glanced at the floor and blinked oddly at the tray of meager food that had been placed in his cell. "What's this?"

"Someone came by and dropped food off for us." Aela kicked her own empty plate, satisfied when it shattered. She instantly began rummaging through the sharp pieces for a usable weapon.

"Someone?" Vilkas blinked.

"Yeah. A man by the smell of him…sort of." She found a sharp enough piece and grinned, hiding it on her person. "He was dropping it off just as I woke or else I would have tried to grab him."

"Did he smell like anything?" Vilkas sat up and eyed the food wary.

"Uh…yes? No? It was hard to place. Almost like he wasn't even there…"

Vilkas sighed. "Why feed us if they are going to kill us?"

"I don't know." Farkas put in finally. "Why trap us at all? Why not just kill us?"

Vilkas ate the bread, suddenly famished and drank the small amount of water that had been provided. The bread was a bit stale but it served. "They may be toying with us." He growled. "How long have we been out?"

"Hard to tell." Aela sniffed the air. "The air down here is stale, we are far from any fresh source. At least a day by my guess. I've been awake for about half a day already."

"You've been down here for two days." Spoke a voice from the entryway.

All heads swerved in that direction to find a cloaked figure standing there with a chair in their arms. They walked into the room and set the chair before all the cells and then left the room for a moment. Aela looked at Vilkas and nodded rapidly, letting him know that was 'the strange man' who had brought them food before. Sure enough, he came back with more plates and startled to slide them through the gap in the cells.

Vilkas could have lunged for him but he knew Aela had a more serviceable weapon so he waited. Farkas too, seemed to catch on and waited patiently for Aela to make her move. As he slid the tray in her cell, Aela lashed out, gripping his clothed wrist and slashed at the tendons. He grunted and managed to rip his wrist away.

Aela seemed pleased, knowing he probably bleed out in a matter of moments but then her smile fell as no blood came. The stranger looked at his wrist, cut open from the wound but no blood flowed. Vilkas could see his tendons, muscle and a bit of bone exposed from the gash but the stranger just sighed, annoyed and covered it more with his cloak. Then he sat in the chair.

"That will teach me to leave sharp objects lying around."

"Who in the Gods names are you!?" Aela yelled, getting frustrated.

"We've met." The stranger scoffed. That scoff sounded familiar…but it couldn't be…

"Daric?" Vilkas breathed, not believing his own words.

The figure stilled for a moment….before pulling his hood away to reveal Daric Theostair. He looked just like as how Vilkas last saw him…save now that his red eyes were now a mute purple color.

"H-how are you…?" Farkas began.

"Alive?" Daric finished for him with a scowl. "Define that for me, would you?"

"I killed you!" Vilkas snarled and gripped the bars angrily. Why couldn't these jack offs just stay dead?!

"Yes, I know." Daric rolled his now purple eyes. "That really fucking hurt by the way."

"What are you, then?" Vilkas grit his teeth. "And what have you done with Vincent?!"

"One question at a time, please." Daric rubbed his temples. "We'll address the fate of your Harbinger first, which I'm sure is what you really care about. He's alive. For the moment. The Master is keeping him under close surveillance until the three days are up." Before Vilkas could speak, Daric continued. "As for what I am…well… I'm not really alive."

"You're a ghost then…"

"No." Daric shook his head. "I'm a soul trapped inside a body that isn't mine. A dead, rotted corpse, modified to look as I once did. I am alive…but I am also not."

"This doesn't make a damn lick of sense!" Vilkas managed to finally get to his feet. "That's not possible."

"Vampires with the borrowed powers of a Daedric Prince can pretty much do as he likes. Including illusion and possession."

"Then why not just kill us? Are you here to toy with us?" Aela shouted.

Daric was silent for a moment. "No…I'm here to get you out."

That left a stunned silence in the room. Aela was the first to speak. "You…what?"

"I'm here to free you…but not today. Tomorrow I will come here around this time with food and your weapons. I will let you out of those cages and you will go save your harbinger."

"Why can't you just let us out now?" Farkas asked with a growl.

"The Master has the key to your cell on his person today. If he had left it behind on the nightstand I would have let you out today…but alas." he shrugged. "We'll have to wait. Tomorrow, he'll be distracted with Vincent…we'll only have a brief window of opportunity in which I can slip away and free you without notice. It WILL be close to the time Vincent will change so we will have to hurry."

"Why help us at all?" Vilkas spoke, still wary.

"You of all people should know why I'm doing this." Daric's eyes narrowed. "I didn't return to my master that night you gave me the warning. I was going to leave Skyrim. Do you know what it feels like having the one you love tell you that they never want to see you again?! I wronged him…and I did it all thinking I knew what was best for him. So, I messed up. Long story short, the Master found me. He pried the truth from me and took possession over my body…forced me to fight you and the rest is history."

"Why should we trust you?" Vilkas narrowed his eyes right back at the mage.

"You shouldn't. But you don't have a choice." Daric answered. "I gave you the word needed to find this place and trust me, even that wasn't easy. I was forbidden from uttering the name of this place or any of the places surrounding here. So, I had to get creative. I'm going to guess Vincent figured it out."

"He did." Vilkas admitted.

A fond smile crossed the mage's face. "I had no doubt."

"Where does Cadrian think you are now? Won't he be suspicious seeing as you've been gone so long?"

"HE thinks I'm disposing of your corpses. I told him I killed you all, gave him a sample of your blood and your weapons as proof." he grinned, obviously pleased with himself. "He's far too busy containing Vincent to keep too close of an eye on me."

"Containing?" Vilkas asked.

Daric smile fell into a grim look. "As the days get closer to the change, Vincent's power will increase. The Master will have to focus on keeping him bound, less he break free. That and he'll exhaust more then necessary so he can have his…fun."

Vilkas' eyes widened. "What?"

"Torture." Daric almost looked sick to his stomach for a moment. "Nothing that Vincent wouldn't be able to heal but a few new scars to accompany the old. You'd be proud though…he hasn't screamed once."

Vilkas grit his teeth. Though he was proud of Vincent for not showing his pain to the enemy, he was also enraged that his mate was getting hurt. "I'll kill him…"

"Get in line." Daric spoke boldly. "As I said, mutt, don't fool yourself into thinking you're the only man here that loves Vincent. I'm helping you because for some reason, Vincent loves you. It may be too late to change my own fate and relations with him now but maybe I can redeem myself some in his eyes."

"You killed Kodlak!" Aela yelled. "You murdered SKJOR! I'll RIP YOU APART, MAGE."

Daric flinched. "Saying I'm sorry would be inadequate. I believed you to be in the way at the time and now that my eyes have been opened I've seen the error of my doings. As I said, saying sorry would mean nothing as words are just wind. So, I'll spare you hearing it. You may do with me as you will once Cadrian is dead."

Vilkas glanced at his comrades and they seemed reluctant but acceptant of those terms. "Fine." He answered for them all.

"Glad to hear it. I'll be back on the morrow. I've tarried too long as it is." Then he turned, taking his chair with him as he felt the room.

Vilkas sighed and slumped against the wall of his cell. He didn't like this and he knew Aela and Farkas were in a similar boat but for now…they had no choice but to trust him.

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True to his word, Daric returned the next day. He was not dressed in a cloak however and wore exactly what Vilkas had seen him wear on the day he was slain. He threw Aela her bow and quiver through the bars and passed Farkas his sword. When he got to Vilkas, he hesitated before handing over Vincent's bastard sword to him. Vilkas blinked.

"My blade?"

"The master has it." Daric spoke getting out the key to unlock the cells. "He's…using it."

"Using it?!"

"On Vincent." he finished grimly. "It's the only time I've heard him cry out."

Vilkas suddenly felt sick and defiled. How dare he do something like that!? "Son of a bitch."

"You're Vincent's weakness." Daric sighed and finally unlocked Vilkas cell before moving on to the other two. "Right now, both Cadrian and Vincent think you're dead."

"You didn't get to tell Vincent we were okay?!" Farkas exclaimed, busting out of the cage as soon as it was unlocked.

"I didn't really get the chance, no. I'm not allowed anywhere near Vincent." He let Aela out last and let out a long breath as she moved past him in favor of killing him.

"You know your way around the Labyrinthian right?" Aela asked, notching an arrow.

"Yes. We must hurry, we don't have much time…" Daric spoke making for the door. "Possibly only a half hour before the change."

"Half an hour?" Vilkas almost roared in rage and grabbed the mage by the wrist harshly.

"I told you, I would come when he was busy and that we wouldn't have much time!" Daric hissed angrily and ripped his wrist out of Vilkas' grasp. "We are wasting time now, idiot."

Vilkas grit his teeth. "Then lead on."

"I was trying to…" Daric rolled his eyes but dropped the issue and lead the way through the Labyrinthian.

He led them through all the traps and pitfalls that were further inside until he led them to a large chamber. There were huge gaps in the floor and it led up to some kind of alter. Vilkas could feel magic pickling at the back of his neck and it made him tense.

"Where's Vincent?" He whispered to Daric.

"Up there." the mage whispered back and inclined his head to the altar. "This is where the Dragon priest Morokei wielded the staff of Magus until the current head of the mages guild made him meet his so called maker. Magic is drawn to this place…so it was the perfect place for my Master to settle."

Vilkas strained his ears for Vincent but heard only silence. There was no noise…he was starting to think this may be a trick but it didn't add up. Why not just kill him in the cell? He glared at the back of the mages' head and Daric turned with a slight annoyed gesture.

"He's being gagged currently." Daric whispered with an annoyed hiss behind his words. "He's close to the edge and Master will not risk injury on himself…no matter how much he enjoys this game."

"You're both sick bastards." Vilkas growled making to move past him and up the ridge but Daric stopped him. Vilkas growled again, slightly louder this time. The threat was clear. Get out of my way or else.

"And you're an idiot." Daric still kept his voice low. "You can't just charge in there."

"And what would you have me do? I won't let Vincent suffer any longer. Get. Out. Of. My. Way."

Daric hesitated. "At least let me distract the Master."

"You have a minute. We are going to coordinate our strike. You have exactly one minute."

"Fine." Daric rolled his eyes. He thrust a small leather bound book at Vilkas and scowled. "When this is over. Give that to Vincent."

"What is it?" Vilkas asked suspiciously.

"The diary of Lillian Belemonde. The Master's sister. He'd had it all these years…I managed to swipe it from his desk last night."

"But why-"

"No time right?" Daric spoke softly. "I have less than a minute now."

"Right. Go on then." Vilkas stashed the book away safely.

Daric huffed and made his way up the path, muttering under his breath. Vilkas guessed the muttering was some crude insult of Vilkas' character but he was too worried about his mate to care. With a nod in Aela's direction, she understood and started to sneak up the far end of the platform. Farkas came closer to Vilkas' side. They would take this charge together.

"Daric?" A voice came from above, sounding slightly put out. "Where have you been boy?" Vilkas almost froze. That was the voice from his dream.

"Forgive me master. I did not wish to see you…hurting him."

"Ah yes." The man Vilkas supposed was Cadrian laughed. "Young love. How can I forget? See Vincent? Not everyone who loves you is dead…well…not really." He laughed and Vilkas felt his blood run cold. That filthy snake…

"Master…please…unbind him."

"Well…Since you asked so nicely, Daric." Footsteps sounded on a cold stone floor and the sound of a strap coming undone echoed in the empty air. "Just his mouth piece…anything you wish to say Vincent?"

A hollow noise sounded that ripped Vilkas' heart in two. He could hear Vincent's breath as he gasped for air but behind that sound was another. His voice was his own but there was another voice behind that one. An ethereal one. It gasped for breathe and spoke in unison. "Die, vile creature."

"So harsh, dear Vincent but it's good to see you so close to the end. This game has been quite fun but I'm glad it's almost at it's end. Nine years is a long time my boy…but I hunted my sister longer." The footsteps receded a bit, he was clearly moving closer to the altar.

Daric peeked down at Vilkas and Farkas and with a gesture of his head, silently commanded them to make their move. Vilkas and Farkas moved up slowly so they wouldn't alert the master mage in his current gloating.

"Can you do math, Vincent my boy? Thirteen years I hunted her. I almost got her four years in but she managed to slip away from that fishing village she'd taken residence in. I didn't even kill her lad. Someone got to her before I could…"

"Oblivion awaits you Vampire." The ethereal double voice sounded. "Not even your Master, the Prince of Rape can save you from my wrath."

A sudden snarl. "Don't you dare pretend you know who rules me! I am ruled by no man or Daedra!" A sudden whoosh of cloth and the double voice howled in horrific sounding pain. "I am MASTER here!"

Vilkas finally got to the top with Farkas and gaped at the sight before him. Vincent was bound in the floor by chains and he was seemingly trapped by a strange symbol under him that glowed as he struggled. A weird looking…birdcage…was on the ground by his head and a weird red light glowed within in. Whatever it was, it seemed to be the source of Vincent's pain. Vincent himself seemed in rough shape. He was fully clothed but Vilkas could see blood seeping through his clothes, staining his coat into a mix of a dull brown color and thick crimson reds. His skin was so pale it was almost blue and his once rosy lips were pale, as if he was dying from the cold. His hair seemed a more vibrant red and his eyes were fiery red as well. Vilkas swallowed the lump in his throat…this was all like his dream…or was it a vision?

Either way, this needed to end.

The man in change was wearing long fancy black robes and had short curly black hair atop his head. His eyes were the same red as Daric's when he had been possessed and in his hands he held Vilkas' sword. Vilkas felt his rage boil over. That was HIS sword. Part of him knew it didn't even matter that a mage had taken it to hurt someone…no. It was because that filthy little mage had taken HIS sword…an extension of himself, to wound his mate.

Vilkas charged at the mage suddenly and swung Vincent's bastard sword at him in a deadly arc. Cadrian looked over, eyes widening comically before vanishing from view and out of harms way. Vilkas turned heel, not caring where the mage had vanished to for the moment and struck the birdcage. It hit the ground with a loud clang and the fire flickered but didn't go out. However it's hold on Vincent seemed to break and Vincent…or at least he hoped it still was Vincent, stopped screaming and sagged in his bounds, tired.

"VILKAS! WATCH OUT!" Farkas' voice rang out and Vilkas turned in time to see a furious Cadrian behind him. With a harsh backhand, Vilkas almost flew across the chamber from the force of the blow and skid on the stone floor as he made impact. Vilkas tried to pay the pain no mind and struggled to his feet, his grip on Vincent's sword was still tight.

Farkas charged Cadrian and Aela shot an arrow at him through the darkness. Cadrian caught the arrow and in one swift motion, slapped Farkas' blade aside with his hand and buried the arrow deep into Farkas' neck. Vilkas' eyes widened as did his twins' as Farkas gurgled on his own blood and slumped to the floor. Vilkas heard himself scream for his brother and dash toward the master Vampire. He was vaguely aware of Aela screaming in anger and sorrow but all he could see was Cadrian and red.

His twin…oh Gods above, Farkas…

Cadrian grinned and grabbed Vincent's sword easily when Vilkas swung it. He held it in place as if it weighed nothing, even though Vilkas was pushing with all he had against him. In a quick flick of his other hand, Aela came hurtling toward them as if pulled by an invisible force. He caught her by the neck and with a sick crack noise, she too crumpled and fell still atop of Farkas.

"AELA!" Vilkas could feel his blood pounding in his ears, he wanted to scream, wanted to cry but he knew he had to save those tears for later. His friends…no…his family…they were gone. In a matter of seconds they were gone! He didn't glace down but he could tell Aela and Farkas' bodies were still twitching. Not yet dead but damn close. Those were wounds Vilkas could never fix and they would die slowly. He swore he wouldn't cry but he could feel hot tears prickling at his eyes but he fought them back. He wouldn't give this monster the pleasure of seeing him break.

"Hello little man." Cadrian spoke casually as if he wasn't holding a very deadly sword blade in one hand. "Vilkas, was it? Tell me…mortal. Was this all worth it?"

"Burn in oblivion, you Monster!"

"So tactful. The fly will spew insults as the spider devourers it." Cadrian thrust the blade aside and lifted Vilkas' own. "Very well. Join your barbarian family in the world beyond this one."

Vilkas steeled himself for the bite of steel against his flesh but found it absent. Cadrian howled in pain as a dagger roughly jabbed into his exposed armpit made him falter. Daric clutched the dagger and twisted, shooting a furious look at Vilkas.

"I've magically unlocked his bonds and tarnished the symbol that binds him! Get Vincent out of here you idiot!"

Vilkas didn't hesitate. He turned to Vincent and ran full tilt toward him. He could feel his heart beating rapidly against his chest when he found the mage standing with his back toward him. He almost felt the world slow down as he realized he's seen this so many times before. Yet he still reached out for him and Vincent still turned. Vincent coughed, blood coming up to stain his chin and neck as he took an awkward step toward Vilkas.

One step…two steps…before he faltered and began to fall. Vilkas was there and he caught the mage in his arms and cradled him lovingly against his chest. He lowered the mage quickly and dug through Vincent's pockets, looking for that medicine that he'd seen Vincent stash before they had left to come to this hell. It was his only chance now!

"DARIC! HOW DARE YOU TURN AGAINST ME YOU UNGREATFUL LITTLE CUR!"

There was a sick splattering noise and Vilkas glanced up in time to see Cadrian thrust his hand through Daric's torso. On the other end, something purple glowed in Cadrian's palm and the sound of glass breaking echoed as he smashed whatever it was. Daric screamed in pure agony and the purple in his eyes faded to a grey color. Cadrian dropped the broken soul gem and it clattered on the ground and rolled off the edge, falling somewhere into the darkness.

Vilkas felt his breathing accelerate and he continued his search. It had to be somewhere!

"Ahem."

Vilkas glanced up again to see Cadrian thrust his arm out of Daric's now lifeless body and stand straight and composed. Daric's vessel fell like a rag doll and stared blankly up at the ceiling, unmoved and frozen. Death was not pleasant…Vilkas didn't want to even imagine what it must be like twice.

"Looking for this?" Cadrian held up the vial of Vincent's medicine. Vilkas' heart dropped as Cadrian slammed the vial to the floor and it shattered into a million tiny pieces. "Woops."

Vilkas felt his breath catch and the feeling of dread welled up in his throat. He wanted to vomit…this was the end. It was over and Cadrian had won. There was no hope anymore…

He glanced down and Vincent and saw those red eyes looking back at him sadly. He knew it too. "Vincent…" He croaked out, feeling the tears he'd fought so hard to keep back, start to fall. What could he say? He was sorry? He tried? Should he say he loved Vincent before the end did come? Or was it best left unsaid? "This is a dream…" he heard himself whisper. Broken. Defeated. Lost. He'd said these words in his dream and they fit here as they had before. "This is all just a bad dream. Right?"

Vincent's eyes suddenly unfocused and he stared at the ceiling. Time was up. Vilkas choked back a sob that erupted from his throat and he held him mate tightly. He thought for a moment about praying to Talos for help but it was far too late for that now. His twin brother and the woman he loved like a sister were slowly dying on the floor. The man he loved more than anyone was in his arms as still as stone and Vilkas knew he'd join him soon.

"It's almost endgame boy." Cadrian spoke. "Where is Talos now?"

As expected, Vilkas gasped in pain as he felt something sharp and cold piece his back. He weakly glanced at the jutting piece of ice that had cut through his armor like tissue paper and now protruded from his chest. At his gasp of pain, he saw Vincent's fingers twitch slightly and he mouthed something silent that Vilkas couldn't catch. Cadrian's hollow laugh echoed in the chamber and Vilkas could hear his footsteps approaching.

His vision swam and the edges of his sight began to grow dark. He fell atop Vincent, still clutching the mage tightly as if his arms would forever protect him. He almost smiled, noting how Vincent had not burst into flames as he had in the dream. It didn't matter though…the outcome was no different.

Then, another sensation. One he'd felt before once. It seemed so long ago as Vilkas struggled to keep conscious…that day in the woods when they had been hunting that outlaw. Vilkas had been hurt and they went back to Jorrvaskr. Vincent had healed him…this felt similar…but…More powerful.

The pain that was trying to fling his mind into Oblivion, suddenly ebbed away and he became more alert and alive. He could feel his flesh knitting together and the ice spike, pushed itself from his body. Cadrian was no longer laughing. Vilkas' eyes fluttered open and he lifted himself, still weak from near death but strong enough to sit up. The figure in his hands glowed with an ethereal light and gently pushed itself out of Vilkas' arms. It stood up straight and with a wave of it's hand flowed new life into the bodies around.

Vilkas heard Farkas' sharp intake of breath and a cough that no longer sounded harsh. He heard Aela groan in pain but stir as well and he could feel his heart crawl out of his stomach and back into place. They were alive. They were alive and they were going to be okay. They all were.

The glowing stopped and Vincent stood there with his back to Vilkas and the other companions. He was facing Cadrian and the Vampire looked like a dear caught in the headlights.

"Vincent…look at you." Cadrian began.

Vincent didn't respond and held up his hand. Vilkas felt a violent surge of magic and Cadrian took a fire ball roughly to the chest. It knocked him back, Vilkas sword fell from his hands and caught his robes alight. The Vampire screeched and tossed off the robe to rid himself of the garment. He was in nothing but his pants and shoes, his chest badly and furiously burned. He was on his knees as he still tried to pat out the flickering flames against his flesh. Another blast of magic sent Cadrian screaming again, this time electricity that seemed to paralyze his every nerve. Cadrian gasped and coughed up blood from the force of the blasts.

Vincent slowly bent, picking up Vilkas' blade easily with one hand and stepping closer to Cadrian's bent form. The birdcage was between them and Vincent's figure seemed to contemplate it for a moment before crushing it under his boot.

"Vincent…" Cadrian tried to caution. "Lets not be hasty now…I'm all you have left."

Vincent didn't answer him verbally, but with a shake of his head. No. Vilkas managed to get to his feet and instead of running for Vincent, he went over to help Aela and Farkas up. For some reason he knew Vincent didn't need Vilkas to protect him now. He could stand on his own.

"I could tell you so much Vincent!" Cadrian held his hands up defensively. "There's so much you don't kn-" Cadrian didn't get to finish as Vincent swung out with Vilkas' blade and let Cadrian's ugly head roll on the ground. The body fell to dust as all Vampires did and blew away in the slight wind.

Vilkas got Farkas and Aela to their feet and he glanced at Daric's body. He too had faded to dust but left behind his crimson ribbon. Vilkas bent and picked it up from the ashes before stashing it near the diary of Lillian Belemonde. He then turned to Vincent who managed to locate his own blade and picked it up off the ground. He found his holster and slung that on as well and sheathed his sword on his back.

"Vincent?" Vilkas spoke carefully. Was this even Vincent anymore?

He heard Vincent sigh before turning toward them. Vilkas' breath caught in his throat when he saw Vincent's eyes were no longer the copper color he'd become so accustomed to. Instead of copper his eyes had become a glorious blue. It was the same blue that Vilkas had always seen when they made love and his breath caught in his throat. Aela and Farkas seemed to be in a similar state of awe.

"Vilkas." Vincent smiled and Vilkas knew everything was going to be okay.

"Excuse me." A small voice sounded and all whirled around for battle. Honestly Vilkas was so tired he didn't know how he'd find the strength to do this but he's sure he'd manage. He automatically lowered the blade when he saw the shinning figure from his dreams standing there. He opened his mouth to speak but Vincent beat him to it.

"Grace?"

She smiled. "This way." And began moving. The companions all exchanged glances before following. They all had to jog to keep up with the small ethereal girl. It didn't help that she could pass through walls when they could not. She never strayed too far from their sight, apparently taking pity on them and not leaving them in her dust. They caught up when she stood at the entrance to the Labyrinthian, the sun rising behind her making her look like a beautiful little angel.

"Grace…" Vincent repeated and took a step closer to her.

"I told you we would speak again the day Cadrian died." She smiled wisely and led them out into the sunlight. "We are very proud of you all." Aela and Farkas seemed confused. She smiled in their direction. "Do not worry. I am no enemy."

"Who are you then?" Aela asked, seemingly slightly suspicious.

"We are a friend. We watch silently, Aela the Huntress, Claimed wolf of Hircine." She tensed and Grace laughed. "You do not need to fear us. We mean no harm."

"So you're a silent watcher?" Farkas asked.

"Farkas of Jorrvaskr, once wolf, now mortal man…" She smiled and nodded. "In a way we are. We watch his land of Skyrim closer then most."

"Talos." Vilkas huffed crossing his arms. He always did hate the riddles and indirectness.

She frowned. "Must you ruin the surprise, dear Vilkas?" Aela and Farkas gaped. Vincent's expression was completely blank. "I am not Talos…but I am Talos. Only a piece of him… a messenger."

"Grace…" Vincent fell to his knees before the small girl, still barefoot in the snow.

"Brother." She echoed and helped him stand. "You've done well. We are proud of you…but your role in history is not yet over. Know that no matter what you learn…we will always be siblings, you and I."

"I…I don't…"

"Wait, wait." Aela interrupted. "What happened in there?!"

She looked over at Aela and the huntress tensed slightly. "The best possible outcome of this event has come to pass and the Gods are pleased."

"So…Vincent is cured?" Vilkas asked reaching and taking Vincent's hand in his own. Vincent's fingers tensed for a moment and then as if remembering where he was, smiled and laced their fingers together.

"Yes and No." Grace's head tilted to the side. "It's more like a temporary solution."

"Explain." Vilkas huffed and then changed his tone when Grace's eyebrow shot up. "Please."

She kicked the snow with her bare foot and watched it blow slightly in the wind. She seemed deep in thought. She knew what was exactly wrong with Vincent now…Vilkas guessed she was just thinking of the simplest way to explain.

"The spirit is special." She began. "Bound to this world against it's will and feral until bound to a host. It's much like a wild animal…that's why it lashed out at anyone when caged. Innocence or guilt…it mattered not because it was trapped. Worthy vessels are ones that could share the Spirits' pain. Vincent passed the test the first time because of the sorrow of watching his sister burn. Does this make sense?"

Farkas nodded slightly as did Aela. Vincent's fingers tightened their grip and Vilkas squeezed back."

"Aye. It makes sense but it doesn't explain what happened now."

"There were two ways this could have gone, Vilkas. That Spirit was bound to Vincent's life…and after another great tragedy…like for instance…Seeing the man he loves the most almost die trying to save him…now the spirit is bound to his soul." She paused at the blank looks. "Let me try this another way. Vincent. Care to step in here?"

Vincent sighed. "When you…Grace died…I heard a voice asking me a question. It was odd…I couldn't tell you what was said but I somehow seemed to understand. I said yes. The next time I woke I was inflicted with the spirit. Then…in there…I was aware of what was happening Vilkas." He gazed up at Vilkas with those now pretty blue eyes. "As you held me in your arms, I could see light fading from your eyes and I…" He took a deep breath to compose himself, shutting his eyes against the particular memory.

"Vincent. It is okay." Grace reassured him. "This nightmare will behind you soon enough but your friends deserve clarity." Vilkas found that ironic coming from the queen of riddles.

"Right…" Vincent seemed to relax. "I heard Farkas and Aela fall. That send my mind reeling and then Vilkas…It was too much. Maybe I could hear because I was so close to the change but the spirit stopped it's assault on my system and asked me another question. It wanted to make a deal with me."

"A deal?" Vilkas asked, slightly suspicious.

"Yes…and I accepted. The deal is that the spirit is allowed to take up residence inside my soul until the day I die. When my spirit goes to the afterlife, it will be able to part from me and go back to the Oblivion in which it came."

"It will keep its word?" Vilkas asked, not really liking this. "How do you know it wont drag your soul to oblivion with it?"

"I don't really…but it's kept it's word so far. I'm stronger. The spirit and I are one right now and I'm the one in charge. I don't hear it's voice now…I don't think we can have a conversation anymore. It's like…we were never apart now. I don't feel like something foreign has invaded me…not anymore. I can tell it's still inside though…I still feel numb to hot or cold. I…it's confusing."

"I'll say." Aela nodded.

Grace smiled kindly. "The spirit will no longer hinder your health brother and if anything it will keep you safe in the coming years."

Vincent let go of Vilkas' hand and kneeled in front of Grace again. "Grace."

"Brother." She echoed again, with a soft amused smile.

"I'm so sorry."

She tilted her head confused. "About?"

"Everything?" he croaked, tears welling up in his eyes. "I couldn't protect you…I brought you to live with Cadrian and I condemned you to this…"

"I have told you Brother that I am better now. More so than I ever was alive. I am free of disease and pestilence…of fear and hate….of everything. I know you think you failed me but fate has placed us as we are now. If this had not happened, you would not have met Vilkas. Everything happens for a reason Vincent and the best possible outcome has been achieved."

"But I-"

"No buts." She smiled a bit sadly. "Vincent. Know this and know it well…my death was written in fate, one way or the other. If you had not gone with Cadrian he would have hunted you down. He would have burnt down the orphanage one day while you were working and I would have died in the blaze. I was condemned to fire, no matter the outcome."

Vincent's eyes widened and a tear leaked free and ran down his cheek. Grace reached a hand out and brushed it away from his face. "Grace…"

"Do you see why it is dangerous for mortal men to know the future? Do not ever think you failed me. Everything happens for a reason and now you have a new life ahead of you." she glanced at Vilkas. "You'll be married to a man you love and lead a group of wonderful and loyal people who will stand beside you no matter what. You have a life now Brother. Live it."

"…" it took Vincent a moment but he swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped his eyes. "…Okay."

"now…if this is all settled, I have stayed too long as it is."

"Will I…!" Vincent stopped and started again. "Will I see you again?"

She sighed. "No." Vincent bowed his head, silent. Vilkas moved beside him and got him to his feet. "however…" She continued. "I will be in touch with Vilkas."

All eyes turned to him and Vilkas shivered under the unwanted attention. "…"

"Why's that?" Farkas asked.

"He's a prophet." Grace blinked. "I've been speaking to him in his dreams."

"And I have to look forward to more of that?" Vilkas asked a bit disdainful.

She grinned. "Yep!"

"Wonderful."

Grace turned and looked at the rising sun. "I have stayed too long. I have to go now." She looked at each companion and her gaze finally rested on Vincent. "Take care of yourself and your guild, brother. Hard times are coming and you have a part to play in this. Our prophet will keep you updated I'm sure." She nodded expectantly at Vilkas. Then she turned as if to take her leave.

"Grace!" Vincent called after and she stopped. She turned to face him and smiled.

"Yes?"

"…" He hesitated. "Goodbye."

She smile widened. "Goodbye, brother."

In a bright flash, she was gone, leaving the four companions alone in the slow, outside of a metaphorical hell. They all glanced at each other and set off back to home, following the winding road of heaven.


	29. Gently as she goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You still raised her and cared for her. Blood doesn't always make family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: creepy incest undertones. Porn. Major feels

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_When I was young, my brother Cadrian was a shy and reserved young man. He was my baby brother…sweet and innocent. Mother was a shrewd woman, always wanting the finer things but she gave us love. Father was a strong mage with a stature to match. He was a magistrate for High Rock and our family's standing was in good graces. We were noble. We were strong. Then mother died._

_An accident in the market square. She was shopping with me for finery. She clasped my tiny hand tight in that market square, our red crimson air blowing unbound in the breeze. Mother rarely let us have our hair unbound in public but she had been in a particularly good mood that day and allowed the small privilege._

_She told me she would get me a dress to bring out my beautiful blue eyes and we walked up to the vendor. We were unaware that he was being robbed currently and when we walked through the threshold, the villain panicked. He tried to rush past us, but my mother was always too proud. She tried to stop him and he cut at her wrist to get away. I remember crying and holding her wrist tightly, my own little hand stained with my mother's blood. Help didn't come in time._

_Father was beside himself. Though he was a strong man, mother's death ruined him. He loved her, he had two children, now motherless…so he raised us the best he knew how. He taught us magic. We were taught basic and then advanced magic. I excelled in alchemy as mother had and I worked wonders in Illusion. Somewhere along the line…father turned to darker arts. Cadrian worshiped father like a God and followed every word he said. Though, it was obvious that I was his favorite…poor little Cadrian. He tried so hard and I wished father had paid him more attention. Maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did._

_Our family gained a bad reputation as shut in's…Father spent all his time in the basement talking to…someone. I could sometimes hear him as I walked the halls but I never ventured into the basement. We were forbidden to go down there._

_When father died, everything changed again. You'd think it would have been for better but it was worse then before._

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_I awoke one night to Cadrian screaming and banging on my door. He told me something had taken father away. When I asked him to calm down and talk to me, he ran down the hall to father's room, raising such a fuss that I finally relented and followed him. He'd also gained the attention of some of the servants with his screams._

 _Inside father's room was an odd looking symbol and a nasty looking burn mark in the shape of a full grown man against the wall. Cadrian pointed at it all aghast and screamed that father was gone and he wasn't coming back. He'd apparently been in the room when it happened and saw the whole thing unfold. We never really could get a real answer out of him of what exactly 'took' father but we never saw him again. The family took it that he had died and passed the estate on to my brother and me. I haven't asked Cadrian in years about that night nor do I ever intend to._  
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_I met him. The man in my dreams has come to me…but I'm wide awake this time and I still feel his hand upon mine. My heart flutters when I think of him, proud and noble…He said he wanted to take me away from this life…away from the cruel fate I'd landed myself in. I'm considering it. If I do go…Cadrian will be all alone._

_Honestly, Cadrian's been frightening me lately. He stares at me in no way a man should stare at his flesh and blood sister. He offhandedly made a comment today that I look just like mother. It was innocent enough but it was the WAY he said it._

_Maybe I'm making too big a deal out of this and it's nothing? Maybe I'm just looking for an excuse to leave…_

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_I've done wrong. I know that for sure. Cadrian found out and…oh Gods. Why didn't I leave!? I should have run away with him when he offered! Damn my bleeding heart! I didn't want to abandon my poor baby brother._

_He is not sweet. He is not innocent! Something evil is in him now! Only behind bars can I see now. I'm trapped and he's not going to let me go!_

_Gods above, my love has no idea. I can only hope that Cadrian doesn't know who he is. Worse yet I found I'm with child. Brother is furious. He yelled that he'd find a way to rid me of a bad thing._

_I want to keep my baby but to raise it in such a horrible place… would the child be better off dead?_  
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_Am I even me anymore? Something is inside me. The flames were so hot and I couldn't breathe. I was dying. Slowly burning alive. All I could think of was my baby…Then I heard something. I couldn't tell you what was said or what was asked but I felt…at ease at the question. I felt like it was salvation. I didn't care what happened to me I just wanted my unborn child to live. I agreed. To what…? I wasn't sure at the time but I'd do anything for my baby. I'd endure any hell…endure any pain…_

_A spirit. I'm infected, like a common disease ridden beggar. Like a vampire, I have three days before the change is upon me. Cadrian thinks he's won…I fooled him into thinking I aborted…Illusion magic is quite a powerful thing…but If I don't cure this plague upon my soul, my child will really be forfeit. Luckily for me, my excelled knowledge in alchemy may lie a cure. Or a temporary solution until I can find a cure._

_My hair is more vibrant red…my skin, pale as snow and my eyes were a rich terrifying copper._

_I'm getting out of here. The only way may be from the top balcony and take a plunge, fifty feet into freezing cold water. I may die…but it would be better to die at the bottom of a lake with my child then stay here with Cadrian a moment longer._

_Gods help me._  
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_I am free. At least for now, anyway. I dare not run to the man who holds my heart. He may call me a monster and turn me away. Worse, Cadrian will be close by and I cannot afford that. My baby is all that matters now…I need to find a place to lay low. It won't be long before the baby's born and I don't want to worry about Cadrian showing up. So I'll run to low class accommodations and throw him off my trail for awhile._

_The medicine is a success, I'm pleased to say. It only rewinds my internal doom clock though. It resets the disease progression to three days. I'll have to take this potion for the rest of my life so I'll have to make sure I have the ingredients on hand at all times._

_I've asked around the slums and I've heard of a fishing village miles outside of town in a small secluded area near the lliac bay. That sounds like a good place to settle and give birth._

_I am in luck. The fishing village has a midwife. She was a sickly woman…pale, black haired and frail like she'd blow away in a stiff breeze. She was married to one of the more prominent fishers and they welcomed me into their home. I would stay with them until I delivered and then they would set up a place for me to live._

_I am eternally grateful to this couple. Davide and Felicia Renalt._

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_My baby boy is beautiful._

_I was worried at first. He didn't cry but I sure did. Felicia had been frightened by my calls…it sounded almost like someone was screaming with me. She stood firm though and helped pull my son from me. I was afraid he was dead…babies cried when they were born right? I thought for a moment…had I been carrying a dead child in my womb this whole time? He had never moved, never kicked….it was possible…_

_Then he cried and my heart filled with joy. Felicia handed me my boy and I fell in love instantly. His tuff of hair was crimson red like my own and he had the prettiest blue eyes. I could tell he would look a lot like me and only hoped he had some of his father's strong features. His name came naturally to me as an old song that I had almost forgotten._

_Vincent is such a wonderful name for such a beautiful child._

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_Vincent is an energetic child. He's only three and I'm having a hard time keeping up with him. These past three years have been bliss…I could live here with my baby boy forever and be happy. Alas…poor Felicia is getting worse and frailer…I also found out that she's pregnant herself. I promised to assist but I'm no midwife. Davide is nervous…this hasn't been Felicia's first pregnancy, and she lost the first two in the birthing._

_Davide has been good to me and Vincent. He plays with Vincent as if he was his son…it's actually adorable to watch. I knit with the fading Felicia Renalt and we watch her husband and my son play in the sand near the rivers end._

_I owe these people everything._

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_Today was a joyful day but also a sad one. Felicia's labor was…difficult. It took hours….longer then my own and she cried something horrible. I'm sure I didn't sound much better but it hurt my heart to hear her in such pain._

_We left Vincent in the care of the neighbor while she gave birth. There are some things a little three year old…soon to be four year old shouldn't have to hear._

_Her child, a little girl, cried instantly as life breathed into her. I smiled and held the small little thing. She was smaller then Vincent had been and just as frail as her mother._

_Felicia…didn't make it. Davide held her hand the whole time and cried for a good two hours over her corpse. We buried her at sea, as was her request and I promised to nurse the small miracle baby for him._

_He named her Grace._

_Vincent is quite smitten on the little girl. He keeps peeking into her cradle with the cutest smile. He saw me nursing her one day and called her, "His little sister." I didn't have the heart to correct him._

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_I write this with a shaking hand. I'm on a carriage with Vincent and…Grace. I knew this couldn't last…_

_Cadrian found us. He attacked and Davide died defending me and the children. Little Vincent…he screamed as he watched Davide fall. Davide's blood got in his hair and on his face and he clung to his father figure's body, wailing for him to wake up._

_I remember Cadrian's face when he spotted Vincent. There was darkness there…. Something revolting and impure. I had thrown myself at Cadrian to get him away from my son but he tossed me aside like a rag doll. I remember he grabbed hold of my baby and he…._

_Gods. I was screaming. I could hear baby Grace crying and I couldn't feel anything anymore. He killed my baby. HE KILLED MY BABY. GODS._

_I don't know what happened….There was a bright light…another question. Anything. Anything to save my baby's life. I'd die in his place but Gods…anything but what had happened._

_Maybe it was love all along. I survived because I loved my unborn child…and I survived this time for the same reason._

_I repelled Cadrian. I can't even remember how…I possibly wounded him but when I regained consciousness, Vincent and Grace were in my arms safe and sound and I was in this carriage. He was alive and safe. There wasn't a mark on him… Even Davide's blood was gone. It was like it had never happened._

_Vincent woke and he looked at me with a smile. "Where are we going mommy?" I remember him saying to me. "Where's daddy?"_

_"Daddy passed away Vincent….remember? He was frail like your sister."_

_Vincent blinked his big blue eyes at me and his face fell slightly. "Oh."_

_It hurt to lie to him. I had to keep him safe…I wouldn't just abandon poor frail Grace, so this white lie would have to do. I'd raise Grace as my own and Vincent would have a sister. I hope Davide won't mind being the memory of a husband I never had._

_I caught sight of myself in the reflection of a rain puddle in the mud. I held my son and new daughter tight as the carriage carried on it's way to Daggerfall._

_Gods above my eyes were blue again._

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_Vincent doesn't seem to remember the incident or the fact my eyes had been any other color than blue. He's settled in nicely, making friends with a local Nord boy named Frey GreyStorm and fretting over the condition of his little sister. He is a wonderful big brother to her._

 _I do the best I can for the sickly child. The money I had managed to scavenge for us is starting to run low. I'm not sure what to do._  
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_I feel disgusted with myself but I don't want my baby to know. Money is coming in but I've degraded myself to a common whore. I'm always careful to make sure I wont get pregnant. I don't think I'd be able to explain it to Vincent._

_Vincent is growing up. He has my coloring but he does thankfully possess some of his father's strong features. Mostly in his cheekbones and the delicate yet firm curve of his jaw. He'll grow slowly but he'll be so handsome when he's older._

_He's a smart boy…I've come to realize. His wit is quick and his tongue quicker to deliver such wit. He certainly does keep that Nord boy that he plays with on his toes. I'm sure Vincent will catch on to what I'm doing soon. I just prey for his innocent state to last….just a little longer._

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_I can't believe Vincent is ten._

_He figured it out of course. I knew he would…surprisingly, he didn't judge me. He understood and smiled at me in a way his father used to smile. My heart aches for my lost beloved. I see him every time I look at Vincent. So many things are the same about them. Small mannerisms…same sense of pride…_

_Gods I miss him. I won't name him…in fear of Cadrian ever finding this journal. Maybe when Vincent is older and can understand, I'll tell him._

_He is a good boy…he got a job on a farm and he was only ten… he is stubborn…(much like his dad again) and refused to let me talk him out of it. You'd think I'd have more control over my ten year old son._

_The influx of gold is nothing to mock. His boss is generous with pay and I've been able to cut back on clients. I hate that my baby has to work to help support me and Grace but I'm also grateful._

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_Vincent is almost thirteen. In half a year he'll be one step closer to becoming an adult. The spirit has been silent since that day, almost if it isn't there anymore._

_I know better. I can feel magic coursing through me. Things don't feel hot or cold…it's still here…just dormant. I've tried to talk with it but it doesn't answer. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy._

_Something horrible happened and I had to fess up to my son. I'm pregnant again. I found a man…he looked just like my old beloved. He even promised to take me away from everything just like Vincent's father had. He was a perfect copy…almost to the point where I could have sworn it was him._

_When I went to see him again…they told me he didn't exist and they had never seen me. I have a feeling in my gut that something is wrong but I need to worry about the new life stirring inside me._  
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_Vincent turns thirteen today. It's the 20th of evening star…appropriate I guess. Vincent will be home from the farm any minute now and I'll have to tell him that we're leaving._

_It's a shame…He'll have to leave behind that Nord boy that he's become close friends with. I know he'll be heartbroken but I'll come up with some excuse._

_We need to get away from here. Anywhere but here before they come for me and my child. They-_

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Vincent blinked and stopped reading out loud. Vilkas had his arms around him and had been reading over his shoulder. Vincent was reading out loud so Farkas and Aela could hear as they rode a carriage back to Whiterun. They were all tired and sore…they caught a carriage going by and managed to talk the caravan driver into taking them aboard.

"What happened?" Farkas asked, resting his hands on his knees.

"There's nothing else." Vincent wrinkled his nose and flipped through the blank pages. "Mother did die on my thirteen birthday…that must have been the last thing she wrote."

Vilkas squeezed Vincent's shoulder in unspoken comfort and Aela and Farkas stayed blissfully silent about the revelation.

Lillian Belemonde, Sister to Cadrian Belemonde, was Vincent's mother. The man who had tortured him physically and mentally for years was his uncle. Grace wasn't really his sister. He wasn't really a Renalt.

Vincent's voice had only wavered when his mother had announced his name in the story. It was there that everything clicked. It explained everything. Vincent wavered at that one moment and then read strongly for the rest, not muttering or hesitating once. He was strong.

Once they got back to Jorrvaskr, a celebration was called and all attended. Vincent only had one drink and kept a strong face through the whole thing. His nightmare was finally over…everyone's nightmare had ended and now they had the rest of their lives to figure out together.

When everyone had retired for the night of passed out in their seats, Vincent stood by the fire, watching the flame. Vilkas stood dutifully by his side, not saying a word and within arms reach should Vincent need him. Vincent pulled his mother's journal from his pocket and glanced at the leather bound cover. He ran his gloved hand along it slightly, as if it was a small creature he was afraid to hurt. Then he cast it into the fire and watched it burn. Vilkas stayed silent, understanding what his mate was feeling and only after all the pieces had burnt to a crisp did Vincent sigh and turn.

"I need a bath."

\-------  
Vincent heated the water…probably more for Vilkas then for himself, and disrobed. Vilkas folded and set everything aside before turning to Vincent. Vincent was still dressed and had his beautiful blue eyes on Vilkas. Even though Vilkas was naked, he knew Vincent's stare was not in arousal. He was starring at Vilkas' chest…right where a new scar had formed. Vincent pulled his gloves off and slowly walked toward Vilkas. He reached out and gently touched the scar as if he was afraid it would burn him.

Vincent stared at the scar with no emotion and when his eyes flickered up to meet Vilkas' he went to pull his hand away. Vilkas caught it and put it right back. The wound was almost right over his heart…

"It's okay." Vilkas muttered and reached his free hand out to pull Vincent in close. He cupped the back of Vincent's head to keep him in place and ghosted his lips across the mage's own.

There he watched the walls crumble and Vincent broke. The façade had faded and he couldn't fight back the sob that erupted from his mouth. He hid his face in the crook of Vilkas' neck and cried in anguish. Vilkas made soothing noises and gently caressed his crimson hair. He didn't quite know how to soothe such a wounded creature but he'd do whatever he needed to do to keep this thing from ever happening again.

"My whole life was a lie." Vincent choked between sobs. "She lied to me!"

"To protect you." Vilkas pulled away to cup Vincent's tear stained face in his hands. Even upset, he was aching beautiful. "She did what she thought was right."

"Nothing about me is right!" Vincent snapped. "I'm a Belemonde! I'm not a Renalt!"

"You're not like him and he forfeited the right to be your blood a long time ago." Vilkas caught a falling tear with his thumb. "You ARE Vincent Renalt. Harbinger of the Companions. In that, there is pride and no man will ever argue that."

"And Grace?" Vilkas could see Vincent's anger begin to fade and his voice soften. "She's not my sister."

"She is your sister." Vilkas corrected. "You still raised her and cared for her. Blood doesn't always make family."

A light returned to Vincent's eyes and it caused Vilkas to smile slightly. He realized his own words went double for him. Farkas was the only one here that shared his blood but he was not the only family Vilkas had left. He had all the companions…he had Aela as a sister, Farkas as a brother…Hell even Tilma was family and now Vincent had it too and belonged somewhere again.

"Lets get you in the bath, yeah?" Vilkas spoke after a silence and helped his lover disrobe. His hands traced over old scars and new. Vincent's back was in horrible shape. The spirit had sped up his healing process and the wounds had closed but it was still an ugly sight. Vilkas probably found it more revolting that his own blade had inflicted some of them.

The thought made his stomach turn slightly but he no longer wished to upset Vincent by bringing it up. They both knew and the look in Vincent's eyes told him there was nothing to forgive. Once naked, Vincent got into the very hot tub as if it wasn't hot at all and started to wash himself. The tub wasn't enormous but there was enough room for Vilkas to get in too. It took him a moment longer to adjust to the water before settling in to do the same. Vilkas tipped his head back to get it wet and scrubbed all the dirt, blood and grime from his skin and hair. He glanced at Vincent who was absently rubbing at one of his arms and looking down at the water. Vilkas sighed and moved closer.

"Here. I'll wash your hair. Come."

Vincent didn't need to be told twice. He moved into Vilkas' lap and he let Vilkas run his skilled fingers through his red locks. Vincent purred contently and leaned back further into Vilkas, trying to get closer to his touch. Vilkas tried not to grin and pushed himself away slightly so his back was hitting the back of the tub.

"Alright. Tilt your head back and rinse your hair out."

Vincent obeyed and fell back under the water with a big enough splash to hit Vilkas. He scoffed and turned his head away just before he got a face full of water. Vincent surfaced, looking like a cat that had just stolen the cream and Vilkas rolled his eyes. Though he preferred this slightly immature playful Vincent to the upset Vincent any day.

"Hey Vilkas…" Vincent began, his eyes beginning to roam Vilkas form as if just realizing he was naked.

"Aye?"

Vincent's lips curved up into almost a coy manner. "Want to get weird with me?"

Vilkas' eyebrow shot up. He knew what that was code for. "Right now?"

"Yep." Vincent nodded and moved closer to Vilkas.

And Vilkas was already back against the tub. He had nowhere to retreat to. "Are you sure?" He was up for being 'weird' with Vincent any day but he knew deep down his lover was still upset. Maybe sex would help but Vilkas wasn't sure.

"Well, lets see…you're very wet, glistening and naked, soooo…yes." Vincent climbed unto Vilkas lap without asking and made himself comfortable. His lips were on Vilkas' before the Nord could really react properly and his hips began rocking slowly, disturbing the water around his waist only slightly.

"Mmmm…Hey...Wait a minute…"

"Shh." Vincent scolded, licking Vilkas' bottom lip. "Talk later. Kiss now."

Well…who could argue with that. Vincent doubled his assault on Vilkas. He grabbed some of his dark raven hair and rocked his hips a bit harsher then before. With each caress, each tug, each touch of his lover's tongue, Vilkas felt himself quickly standing to attention. He heard Vincent purr against his mouth when he felt Vilkas' manhood strain against his thigh. Vincent's free hand slowly moved down to try and prepare himself but he suddenly found himself off balance and falling backwards.

Vilkas managed to wrap his arms around the mage to keep Vincent from falling harshly into the tub and keeping his own hair, which was still tightly in Vincent's grasp, mind you, from being ripped out. He chuckled at how silly this was and saw the mage scowl under him.

"Shut up."

Vilkas didn't bother apologizing. He knew Vincent would just say something like 'don't say sorry because it doesn't suit you.' So, he settled for helpful advice. "This will be easier if I do the work."

"Oh yeah?" Vincent lifted an eyebrow. "Explain."

"Here." Vilkas helped Vincent turn so he was on his knees and bent him forward until his marred hands clutched the edge of the tub. He braced Vincent in place with one hand on his hip while the other started to work at Vincent's entrance with help from the water.

"T-that's…not fair." Vincent breathed. "I can't…ohhhh…see you."

"I'm still right here." Vilkas soothed as he worked two fingers into Vincent's tight hole. He was glad to see that Cadrian had not completely violated the Harbinger. It had worried him somewhere in the back of his mind, and now he could rest easier. He waited until he had Vincent arching against him before adding a third finger and pressing up into his prostate.

Vincent mewled and bucked against his fingers, his own hands tightly gripping the tub for support as his hips rocked. The noises he made were sinful and Vilkas was having a hard time keeping his self control. Last thing he wanted to do right now was hurt Vincent in anyway.

"Relax." He cursed how husky his own voice sounded. "You don't want Aela charging in here, thinking that you're getting killed, aye?"

Vincent half laughed and half moaned as Vilkas' fingers found a very nice place. "She'd like it." he croaked.

Vilkas growled under his breath. Yeah…she probably would. "Still doesn't mean she needs to."

"Well, get on it then." Vincent glanced over his shoulder.

"Impatient?"

"Damn right and I can feel you against my leg. You want it just as bad."

Touché.

Vilkas pulled out his fingers, ignoring the whimper from Vincent and lined himself up with Vincent's entrance. He prodded the opening slightly with his cock-head before gently pushing it inside. He heard Vincent gasp under him and it sent his blood rushing south so quick it left him a bit lightheaded. Vilkas let his hand run over the expanse of Vincent's back, his hand tracing all the new scars along with the old before settling on the mage's hips. He gripped them tight and pushed himself in slowly. His adrenaline raced at how Vincent would arch higher with every inch of him that entered his tight passage until he was finally sheathed fully inside.

Vincent whimpered instantly at the lack of movement but Vilkas was going to make damn sure his mate was fully ready before he started moving. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he began to move. He fell easily into the rhythm that they normally established in their move making and kept himself at an even tempo. He pressed his chest against Vincent's back and took in his rich fiery scent as their hips moved in unison.

His mouth fell to Vincent's shoulder and nape. He kissed and licked all the flesh before him, nipping to mark areas that would become big purple love bites in the morning. One hand flicked up to tilt Vincent's chin up, craning his neck for better access. Vilkas licked an old scar, the mate mark, and nipped the tender flesh softly. It seemed like that was made an age ago…

"Vilkas." Vincent panted, his grip on the tub rim was like steel. "Gods…touch me."

Vilkas was happy to obey. His free hand left Vincent's hip in order to reach under the water and tug at Vincent's achingly hard cock. The mage let out a contended coo as Vilkas stroked him and he thrust his hips back onto Vilkas' manhood a bit harder. Vilkas got the message and picked up the pace.

Vilkas angled himself and thrust hard into that spot, knowing it would make Vincent see stars. Vincent's mouth opened and a loud mewling sound erupted from him. Vilkas shh'ed him gently and slid two fingers into Vincent's open mouth to keep him occupied. Vincent's tongue immediately attacked the digits and sucked deeply on them to stifle his cries of ecstasy. His strokes became harder and his thrusts more shallow. The sound of water smacking against bare skin echoed throughout the room and it was deadly obvious to anyone that would be listening at the door what exactly was going on in here….but Vilkas found that he didn't care at the moment.

A few more harsh thrusts and Vincent was done. Vincent bit down slightly on Vilkas' fingers and his whole body tensed. He released into the water and clenched down on Vilkas like a vice. Vilkas bit into Vincent's neck to muffled the low growl that erupted from his own throat as he emptied himself inside his little lover. He stayed that way for a good solid minute, softly kissing the flesh he'd just bitten as if in apology.

When he pulled out, Vincent huffed at the loss but also understood they couldn't stay in the bath all night. Vilkas helped clean Vincent up and emptied the bath water before getting dressed. He only dressed in what was needed to venture out, not really wanting to put back on dirty clothes but not having much choice. Vilkas followed suit and went they got back to their room they disrobed again and put their clothes in a pile to be washed.

Vilkas lay awake, kissing Vincent's lips softly until he lulled the mage into a soft easy sleep. He knew when Vincent awoke the next morning his eyes would still be blue and the next chapter in their lives would officially begin. He waited until he knew Vincent was in a peaceful dream before he too fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weird I know. Lillian's journal was all over the place because she didn't write in it very often. But there you go. All of Vincent's past is revealed and out in the open. Cadrian= Officially worst Uncle ever.


	30. A hero comes home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For what it is worth, we are sorry Vilkas."
> 
> "For what?" He asked, not tearing his gaze from the back of the Dragonborn.
> 
> "For this." she stated simply. "For the end."

\----  
\---  
\--

 

Vilkas can hear roars in the distance and it is unlike any animal he'd ever heard. It sends a forbodding chill up his spine even though he isn't cold. That came out of no real animal…He sighed as he looked at the dark forest before him. His breath came out in white puffs of smoke before him, swirling in the dark air before it vanished.

He knew he couldn't just stand out here. If he did, whatever he needed to see would probably get impatient and force violent and disturbing imagery on him… So, in he went. He passed the tree line and a small path was visible through the brush and grass. Wind whistled through the tree's a cold air brushed against Vilkas' face as he pressed forwards. Always in the distance, there was a roar.

Welll, at least there was a curtosy of giving him a damn path to follow.

_"Our Hero, our Hero claims a warrior's heart…."_

Vilkas stopped. A young girls' voice. A familiar voice. He sighed and picked up his pace. Time for another vision it seemed.

_"I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes…"_

"Grace?" Vilkas called out, seeing a dim light in the distance.

_"With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art…."_

Vilkas huffed and pressed closer to the light. He knew she heard him…

_"Believe, Believe the Dragonborn comes…"_

Vilkas stepped into the clearing and crossed his arms. Sure enough, there was Grace with her back turned to him. She stood ankle deep in thick snow and her hair floated about her as if she was underwater.

 _"For the Darkness has past and the Legend yet grows…"_ She sang. _"You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborn's come."_

"Is this why you called me here? To sing to me?"

Grace smiled and turned toward him. "That's a mean way to say hello."

"It's usually not good news when you call on me." Vilkas approached, no longer awe struck or secretly scared as he used to be.

Grace gestured to the clearing and five figures stood there that hadn't been present a moment ago. One was instantly recognized as Vincent. Across from him was Cassandra from the mage's collage at Winterhold. Vilkas scowled at bit at her image. Next to her was what looked like a wood elf. He was little and lithe, standing at no more than 5'5 at most. His features were more humanistic than a normal wood elf and Vilkas wouldn't have even known he WAS an elf if not for the ears. Blonde hair framed his delicate features and his eyes were almost an unsettling… purple..? Across from him was a Dark elf with long silver hair. His skin was a healthy bronzed color and he dressed all in black. He too had humanistic features but not as much as the wood elf. He was strikingly handsome, and in his red eyes, a spark of mischief.

They all stood in a circle surrounding what looked like a Nord male. His back was turned toward Vilkas but he could see this man's hair was black as ebony and styled up into a rebellious way.

"I recognize Vincent and Cassandra…" Vilkas huffed. "Who are the others?"

"Head of The Thieves guild and Listener of the Dark Brotherhood." She nodded wisely. "The man in the middle is the Dragonborn."

"Thieves and Assassins…" Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Are they really necessary? Can't you see further?"

She shook her head. "The World eater had awoken." she replied sadly. "The Dragonborn is here in Skyrim, alive but it was a close call. Only by the attack of the World eater did he escape execution. It is time and the Dragonborn will need all the allies he can get."

"So it's the end of the world." Vilkas stated more of a statement than a question.

"Yes." She replied with a deadpanned stare. "This is what is needed for-"

"The best possible outcome." Vilkas finished for her. She grinned.

"You're learning."

"Experience it enough and you get used to it."

She sighed and put a comforting hand on his wrist. Vilkas flinched slightly at the light flowing through her touch and into his palm. It didn't hurt or feel uncomfortable. It was a touch that was meant to soothe but nothing about the end of the world, soothed Vilkas at all.

"For what it is worth, we are sorry Vilkas."

"For what?" He asked, not tearing his gaze from the back of the Dragonborn.

"For this." she stated simply. "For the end."

"It's…not your fault?"

"…" She hesitated. "Most mortals would blame the Gods for not putting a stop to it ourselves."

"I have a feeling that you would if you could. You need us to do it for you."

She stayed silent and Vilkas took in a deep sigh in…relief? He didn't quite know how to feel. His love…was going to be thrust into horrible danger once more. He felt bad of course. He wanted to give Vincent the world and everything he deserved. They had only been married for two years now and Vilkas didn't want to have to send his new husband to mortal peril so soon. He had no choice in the matter though. The World was going to end and all he could do is stand by his Harbinger and keep him safe in the danger to come.

"It's time Vilkas. You need to wake up."

Vilkas smiled humorlessly. "What? I don't get to meet the man?" He asked gesturing to the back of the Dragonborn.

"You'll meet him soon enough." her smile was sly and…mischievous? "Be well Vilkas. We will be in touch."  
\------------------------------

4E 201

_"DADDDDDDDDD!"_

Vilkas' eyes opened and he blinked blearily at the ceiling. He rubbed his tired eyes and groaned at the light. What time was it?

**_"DADDDDDD!"_ **

He sat up in bed just in time to see a small raven haired Nord boy bolt into his bedroom and jump on it in a huff. His raven hair was held back with a crimson ribbon that once belonged to someone close to the Harbinger's heart and he was dressed in leather armor made for his size, along with archery gloves. His bow was squeezed tightly in his seven year old grip and his big green eyes looked annoyed .

"Leif?" Vilkas grunted out with sleep still heavy in his voice. "What is it?"

Leif pouted, sticking out his bottom lip. "Tryg hid my arrows again! When I went to ask for them back he called me stupid!"

Vilkas rubbed his eyes. "What time is it Leif?"

The child looked confused for a moment. His pretty face that Vilkas knew would one day be ruggedly handsome, went blank for a moment. "It's about six, Da. Why?"

Vilkas groaned. "It's too early for this Leif." Vilkas glanced to the side and saw Vincent's spot empty. That's right…he wasn't here. He had business with the Jarl early…

"B-But dad-!"

"I'll talk to Tryg. All your screaming better not have woken up your sister, boy."

Leif looked aghast. "I'll check on her." He jumped off the bed with way too much energy for so early in the morning and bolted out on the room.

Vilkas sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed and getting up. He dressed quickly, knowing it was only a matter of time before Leif came barreling back in. He just managed to get his armor on before Leif came back holding a two year old Breton girl.

"Leif. You didn't need to pick her up." he scolded, snapping the last buckle that held his armor into place. "She can walk."

"She wanted to be carried, Da." The small girl in his arms giggled and clutched his raven hair in her little hands.

Vilkas rolled his eyes and took the small girl from the boy with ease, hoisting her up into his arm. She looked at him with big brown eyes and cooed. Vilkas turned his attention back to the aspiring archer.

"Well, now that Grace is up, go upstairs and sit with your brother. I'll be there in a moment."

Leif looked like he was about to protest but a look from Vilkas silenced it. He just nodded and left the room.

"Daaa…" Grace smiled and pet his five 0-clock shadow, giggling when his stubble tickled her fingers. Vilkas couldn't help the ghost of a smile cross his lips even though he was annoyed from being awoken in such a way. Gods help him to think two years ago he didn't have kids. He never thought himself a good father figure but it seems like he was doing an okay job at it. He loved these kids like they were his own, it didn't matter that they were adopted.

He picked up his sword one handed and sheathed it on his back without disturbing the small child in the crook of his arm. She clapped happily as he began walking out of the room. He passed his and Farkas' old circle's quarters, no longer home to warriors but to children. The twins Tryg and Leif shared Vilkas' old room and Grace had Farkas'. Farkas had moved into Skjor's old room so the kids could have space.

Vilkas went upstairs, passing the Whelps' room. He could hear Torvar snoring and Athis talking softly to Nadia as he passed. Upstairs, Ria was speaking with the new whelps, Tarija and Erik about the latest news. Both Nord newcomers, they raised a glass at Vilkas' passing form, before resuming talk with Ria. Vilkas didn't see the kids, Farkas or Aela so he tried out in the courtyard.

Sure enough, there they were. Farkas was standing by a small blonde haired boy who was rubbing a new welt on his cheek angrily. He was held back by his collar by Farkas but he looked as if the fight had been taken out of him already. Leif was being held back by Aela, who gripped his wrist tightly, keeping him from mauling his fraternal twin brother.

"What's going on here?" Vilkas asked, slightly exasperated.

Tryg turned his blonde head in Vilkas' direction, his big blue eyes angry and pointed at Leif accusingly. "He hit me!"

"He called me stupid!" Leif snapped back. "He won't give me my arrows!"

"I don't have them!" Tryg snapped back, still rubbing his cheek. "Not my fault you're too stupid and lost them!"

"UNK!" Grace flailed in Vilkas' arms. He set the child down and watched her toddle up to Farkas' leg and wrap her little arms around it. She couldn't wrap them all the way around his thick leg but she tried anyway. Farkas smiled and let Tryg go so he could pick up the small girl. It looked like a giant bear cuddling a small porcelain doll. Tryg thankfully didn't lash out at his brother, even when freed. Leif looked ready to kill, so it was best he was still a captive.

Vilkas folded his arms and scowled at the boys. Both of them instantly looked down at the ground, ashamed. "Tryg. Give him his arrows." He cut the child off before he could defend himself. "I know you have them so don't lie to me." Tryg shut his mouth and nodded.

"Sorry Da."

"Don't say sorry to me. Apologize to your brother."

Tryg's mouth shot open. "He HIT me!"

"I'm aware and I'll punish him for that later. For now, apologize to your brother."

Tryg kicked the dirt. "Sorry." he muttered.

"Go play, Tryg." Vilkas dismissed him and watched the blonde quickly run off back into Jorrvaskr, not having to be told twice.

"But Da, he-" Leif began but when Vilkas glared at the boy he shut his mouth.

"And you…you know better than to lay your hands on your brother, especially when I told you I was coming to handle it."

"But Da…he kept calling me stupid!"

"We both know you are not stupid Leif, but that was childish behavior." Leif was so smart he scared Vilkas sometimes. He saw a lot of himself in Leif at that age. Stubborn, quick to anger, scholarly and very serious about training. His twin Tryg was much more carefree and affectionate.

"Sorry…" The raven haired boy muttered sullenly.

"Your brother will give you back your arrows, but Aela will not be training you for at least a week."

Leif's big green eyes widened. "What?!"

"That's the punishment for striking your brother. I'll hear no argument about this."

Leif grumbled but seemed to accept the punishment. "When is momma getting back…?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes at Aela and Farkas' amused smiles. "I told you not to call him Momma. He's your father too."

"That's too confusing." Leif huffed. "and Momma doesn't care. He told me so."

"You still shouldn't call him your mother." Vilkas chided him but knew Leif probably wouldn't listen. He just sighed. "Go play Leif and keep your hands off your brother."

"Yes sir." He ran off back into Jorrvaskr and passed Tilma on the way in. She yelled at him for running but when he was out of sight, Vilkas saw the old woman smile. She had missed children being apart of Jorrvaskr.

"So…" Farkas began. "where is Mommy?" Aela snickered beside him and Farkas looked like he was barely holding back a laugh.

"Mommy." Grace echoed and played with Farkas' giant thumb.

"Doesn't that get old for you two?" Vilkas scowled.

"Nope."

"No."

Came their quick answers and Vilkas sighed, defeated. "He went to see the Jarl early. He was summoned late last night and told that the Jarl needed to see him at his earliest convenience."

"What in the Gods names could be so important?" Aela huffed, crossing her arms. "We were supposed to go hunting later."

"Could be about that demandable civil war starting." Vilkas offered. The high king blasted apart with a power no man should rightfully possess…the storm cloak rebellion…Nirn was going to hell and fast.

"Vilkas?" Came the voice of the Harbinger.

All heads turned in that direction to see Vincent rounding the corner to the courtyard. Grace squealed happily and made grabby-hands at Vincent. The redhead smiled and took the small child from Farkas. He looked a bit tired and Vilkas guessed the talk with the Jarl must have been a taxing one.

"You're up early, Grace…" He commented off-handedly and bounced her a bit in his arms. She giggled happily as he did so and clung to his pastel coat.

"She woke up when Leif barreled into our bedroom, screaming about his brother." Vilkas offered.

"Is he in trouble again?"

"Aye. He hit Tryg."

Vincent rolled his eyes a bit. "Such a temper on him. He's too much like you."

Vilkas only felt mildly insulted. "Too much like me?"

"To fiery for his own good." Vincent's blue eyes narrowed slightly but he had a smile on his face. "And stubborn as hell. I'm sure you used to hit Farkas."

Vilkas looked slightly put out. "Only when he deserved it…"

"I never deserved it." Farkas defended with a grin.

"You always deserved it." Vilkas snapped back.

"What did the Jarl want…?" Aela asked, changing the subject. "We were supposed to go hunting early, Vincent."

"I know, I'm sorry." his smile fell a bit. "I unfortunately have grave news. Tilma!" He called for the old woman who was cleaning up around the tables. She came over quickly.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you mind taking Grace inside for a bit?"

"Absolutely. Come to me little darling." She cooed and took the baby from Vincent's grasp before scurrying inside.

"So, what's going on?" Farkas probed, crossing his arms anxiously, wanting to know the bad news.

Vincent took a deep breath. "He told me a Dragon attacked Helgan."

Vilkas felt his heart stop for a moment. "What?"

"Eye witness accounts." Vincent nodded. "A giant Black Dragon attacked Helgan…it killed a lot of folks…not many people made it out."

"A dragon…" Aela gaped and glanced at Vilkas. "Like the warnings you've been getting?"

"Aye." Vilkas answered morosely. He'd kept them all updated when he had visions as he promised he would. Only the circle knew and Vilkas planned to keep it that way. "Had another last night too. Much more clear than all the others."

"That's not all…Apparently late last night a dragon attacked outside the city walls and a bunch of guards and…some guy…stopped it. They say he absorbed the soul and that he's the Dragonborn."

Vilkas sighed. "I was told the Dragonborn was in Skyrim now…"

"Did anyone feel a rumbling last night?" The Harbinger questioned. Aela nodded.

"Yes. I thought it was distant thunder though. I fell asleep not long after."

"Well, apparently it was a bunch of old men on a mountain top, calling for the Dragonborn." Vincent sighed. "This is just too strange for me."

"It's a Nord thing?" Aela offered, not very helpfully.

"Did you see the Dragonborn?" Farkas asked.

Vincent shook his head. "No. According to the Jarl, I just missed him."

"So now what do we do?" Aela asked looking to the gathering storm clouds in the distance.

"We wait." Vilkas answered. He too looked out at the gathering clouds and frowned deeply. "The Dragonborn will come to us eventually. The companions have a role in fate to play yet again."

Vincent nodded and almost jumped when a loud crack of thunder sounded in the distance. "I just hope this isn't the end."

Vilkas could have sworn he saw dark wings moving among the black clouds. Unconsciously he reached out and took Vincent's hand before muttering.

"Gods preserve us."

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the official end of Wolves and Magic and there are five bonus chapters.
> 
> About the kids, as a quick side note, I promise they will be explained in bonus chapters and in case you weren't paying attention, they are adopted. No M-preg. It kinda freaks me out a bit so I tend to shy away from it. I really like Leif by the way. He's just so cute in my head and I love his little attitude. Tryg is an old Norse name that means 'True' and Leif I believe means 'Love' So their twin names together is True Love. 
> 
> NotsurewhybutIseethembeing'together'atanolderage. (soM-pregbothersmebutTwincestdoesn't?WtfIdek.)


	31. Irresistable (Bonus chapter 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched Vilkas' adam's apple bob every time he spoke to his brother. His skin was glistening in the daylight from sweat and exhuersion…Vincent had to cross his legs slightly to hide his growing erection. Vincent bit his finger a bit harder…Gods why did he want to lick him so much right now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Top!Vincent. Bottom!Vilkas. Porn. Fangirl!Aela. Fangirl!Ria.

\----  
\---  
\--

_4E 199, 27th Frostfall_

Vincent's eyes were glued to his husband-to-be as he practiced with his twin brother Farkas in the courtyard. It was a hot day today, odd seeing as how late in the year they were, so Vincent stayed in the shade. (not that heat actually affected him inwardly but his skin would still burn)Vilkas was insistent on training though and had removed his shirt and armor so he could practice. Farkas had removed his as well as they swung their deadly blades at the poor practice dummies.

Vincent however didn't even really glance in Farkas' direction. Not that Farkas was unattractive because the Gods above knew he was…Vincent just…saw him as only a brother. How could he see him otherwise when he was frequently getting rammed by his very attractive twin brother? Despite being twins, and identical ones at that, they couldn't be more different.

Their heights, their voices, their demeanor, their stance…almost everything about them was different. Sure they were identical but time, weight and the different hair cuts set their faces apart. They had the same sharp blue eyes though. The same color…and that was about it. Farkas' eyes could turn into a puppy dog stare at the drop of a hat. Farkas was easier to smile and it showed in his eyes. Vilkas' eyes were cold and hard most of the time. When he looked at Vincent, the mage feared he might fall into those icy depths. That hard, often aggravated stare made the Harbinger shiver under its scrutiny…He never felt such things when Farkas stared at him…

So, Vincent sat back in his chair and enjoyed his favorite pastime. A little something he liked to call 'Grump watching.' He watched the muscles in his lover's back move and strain every time he swung his mighty blade. His body moved gracefully and as strong as a saber cat. Vincent could see sweat trail down his spine and absorb into the dark fabric of Vilkas trousers. Being less poetic about his lover's body parts he had to admit that Vilkas had a great ass. Every part of Vilkas, in Vincent's mind, was perfect. All his scars, his strength, his pride, his smell…

Oh Gods above, his smell.

Vincent never thought in his 27 years of life that he would ever enjoy 'man' smell. Growing up with all the other boys before training was…harsh. Most of the orphans never bothered to bathe and the scent of them often made Vincent feel ill. Once….things changed and most of them either passed away by their own hands or Cadrian's, Vincent was stuck around Daric. Daric, being the priss he was, never went more than a day without bathing. Vincent himself never went longer than two days if he could help it. Bathing every single day wasn't good for your hair…

Was that a very girly thing to think?

Oh well. didn't matter much now. He wasn't sure when it happened…maybe it was that day before Skjor died and he was cuddled in bed with Vilkas. Not yet lovers, but close enough to become such. He remembers being cuddled against his chest and taking in his rich manly scent. Sweat, snow, musk and slightly of dog. Even without the wolf inside, Vilkas still smelt slightly like a hound. Vincent didn't mind and in fact had grown to love it. That scent made him feel safe and protected.

Turning to the more dirty parts of his brain, he gazed at his soon-to-be husband again and licked his bottom lip slightly. Was it bad that Vincent wanted to get up and tackle the gorgeous man? He concluded that no, it wasn't bad but it was probably not a good idea. He didn't think that Vilkas would like being on the ground and rutted against by an insatiable Harbinger…while his brother watched. No. He defiantly wouldn't like that. If Farkas and others were not present…well…that's a different story.

Vilkas put his sword down for a moment and turned slightly to Farkas to speak to him about something that Vincent couldn't quite overhear, but it gave him a good look at his lovers' chest in the meantime. Vilkas was not hairless but he wasn't a bear either. He had hair on his arms and some on his upper chest. Vincent's eyes followed the hard muscles on his chest downward until they found the indent of his shapely hipbone. Just below his navel was slightly more hair that vanished into the waistline of his pants. Vincent put the edge of his index finger in his mouth to keep himself from groaning out loud and for something to keep his mouth occupied on.

His eyes stayed trained on Vilkas' chest, neck and strong jaw line. He watched Vilkas' adam's apple bob every time he spoke to his brother. His skin was glistening in the daylight from sweat and exhuersion…Vincent had to cross his legs slightly to hide his growing erection. Vincent bit his finger a bit harder…Gods why did he want to lick him so much right now…

"Hellllllo. Nirn to Vincent. Come in Vincent."

Vincent blinked, suddenly becoming aware of things around him other than Vilkas. He looked to his left slightly and saw Aela and Ria watching him curiously. Well, Ria was watching him curiously, Aela was smirking like the cat that got the crème, knowing exactly what had Vincent so distracted. Honestly, he was unsure how Ria wasn't already aware. They were sitting at the same table as him and not even a foot away.

"You should pay attention." Aela grinned. "This is your wedding after all that we're planning."

"Right. Sorry." Vincent completely forgot that they were even talking to him and didn't dare glance back over at Vilkas in fear of getting lost again.

Aela chuckled. "That's alright. Perhaps we've done enough for today anyway. We still have a week before you tie the knot with our Master at arms."

"It's so romantic." Ria gushed, making Vincent feel slightly embarrassed. He was used to Aela's attention into his personal life but no other woman in their fold was close enough to him.

"Yeah…I guess." The redhead mumbled. He kind of wanted to go back to 'grump watching'.

"So how is every little thing?" Aela pried. Tilma walked past and put down mead of each of them. They thanked her as she left and Aela picked up her glass.

"Good." Vincent answered simply. He knew she wanted more detail but he wasn't sure if he wanted to get into that. He picked up his own mug and brought it to his lips.

"Good. Good." Aela nodded, took a sip and without missing a beat said, "Have you topped him yet?"

Vincent choked on his drink and sputtered. Ria's eyes got wide like dinner plates and she suddenly seemed much more interested in this conversation.

"By the divines!" Vincent huffed after he'd gotten control of his breathing back. "Aela, who asks things like that?!"

"I do." She said simply and innocently.

"It's not appropriate!"

She tilted her head at him. "And staring at Vilkas like you want to run over and tear off all his clothes in front of everyone IS?" Damn. She got him there. He huffed instead of answering. She smiled in victory. "Come on. Out with it."

"Ria is right there." Vincent huffed.

"She won't tell anyone. Right, Ria?"

"Right!" Ria seemed too eager to agree.

"She is helping you plan YOUR wedding after all. You could be nice and let her in on our gossip."

"Yeah!" Ria was practically bouncing in her seat.

Vincent's eyes narrowed at them. Bunch of harpies… "Fine but if I find out that anyone knows about this other than us, I will never tell you anything ever again. Got it?" They both nodded and he sighed. "Fine. Shoot then."

"Have you topped him?" Aela asked again.

"No. Next question."

Aela blinked. "Why? You don't want to?" Seems she wasn't going to let this go.

So Vincent just gave in, knowing it would be easier for him in the long run. "It's not that I don't WANT to…" He sighed and looked down at his mug. "Vilkas he's…just really dominate. I'm not sure he'd like it."

"Vilkas is quite dominant." Aela backed up his claim. "I can see where the problem is but do you want to top him?"

"I…well…I'd like to try it." His face must be getting red in embarrassment. He'd thought about it before. He was a man after all…He'd thought about Vilkas under him more than once...not mewling in a submissive manner but staring coolly yet lustily back up at him. The thought made him shutter slightly and Aela smirked at him knowingly.

"It's settled then." Aela nodded wisely. "You'll have to be dominating back. Like…force him down and take him!"

Vincent blinked. "Can't I just…I don't know…ask him?"

"Asking takes away the adventure!" Aela grinned. "Tonight, you should force him down and take him."

"Yeah!" Ria giggled. "It'll be interesting to see Vilkas limping tomorrow~"

Vincent wasn't sure if that freaked him out or not. "I…guess I'll try."

Ria squealed, all excited and it made Vincent jump slightly. Whoa. Aela just nodded in approval. Gods what had he just agreed to?

"What's all the commotion?" Vilkas asked, standing right beside the table now. No one had even seen him approach. Ria EEPED loudly at being caught and Vincent had to face-palm. Not very subtle…

"Just talking about girly things, like your wedding." Aela covered with an innocent smile up at him.

Vilkas' eyes narrowed as if he didn't quite believe her. He turned his gaze to Vincent and the mage found himself unable to look away from him now. Gods, he could smell him and he was so close… Vincent's hand tensed on his lap and he almost reached out to touch the hard muscles on Vilkas' stomach.

"Vincent…" he warned. "you're keeping something from me…"

"No he's not." Aela spoke up but Vilkas shh'ed her.

He walked closer until he was barely and inch away. He reached down and cupped Vincent's chin before lifting so he was forced to meet Vilkas' gaze. Vincent shuttered in his touch, his budding erection now growing hot and uncomfortable in his pants.

"Tell me." Vilkas spoke softly yet quite firm in it's delivery. It was not a question and Vincent would be lying if he said he hated the commanding tone.

Vincent wanted to answer him…to come up with his normal quick witted (or as Vilkas called it- Smart assed-) commentary but found he couldn't. Not this time. His mouth had gone dry and the blood rushing south too fast had reduced his brain to a mushy pile of goo. Was he always this bad when it came to Vilkas? Maybe inwardly? When Cadrian was around and you feared for your life, you didn't really have time to take in all of the very attractive Master-at-arms. Now, there was no threat on his life and he had time to stop and smell the roses as it were…

Vilkas blinked, probably due to the lack of response and prodded Vincent's bottom lip with his thumb before sliding it into his mouth. Vincent made a surprise noise against the digit and twitched as it prodded his tongue.

"Making sure it was still there." Vilkas let a small…almost cocky smile come to his lips.

Vincent almost scowled but decided that two could play at that game anyway. He reached up and gripped Vilkas' wrist, keeping it in place for the moment. He then flicked his tongue up against Vilkas' thumb and tasted sweat, dirt and slight copper from a small cut he had there. He made sure to keep his big blue eyes boring into Vilkas' own icy ones and he celebrated inwardly when he saw a flicker of arousal there.

"Squee~"

Both Vincent and Vilkas' eyes widened for a moment before they turned their attention to the previously forgotten women at the table. Ria covered her mouth from the squeak that she'd just released from her mouth and Aela sat there amused, drinking her mead. Both their eyes were locked on the sight before them though.

Vilkas growled, almost territorial in nature and pulled his wrist from Vincent's grasp. Vincent watched Vilkas retreat inside quickly, already morning the loss of his finger and taste.

"You see Ria, they do stuff like that all the time." Aela explained, finishing her mug and ignoring the obviously displeased look Vincent was shooting her right now. "You just have to be quiet and watch…almost like hunting. don't want to startle the deer."

"Aela…" Vincent huffed, annoyed. "Don't compare this to hunting. Please…"

"But it's so alike." She mused and stood quickly. "Well, go get him."

Vincent blinked. "What?"

"Go be dominate."

"R-right now?"

"No. Next year. Yes, right now." She insisted. "He's aggravated. It's the perfect excuse to tussle with him a bit."

Vincent hesitated. "This doesn't seem like a good idea…"

"It's a great idea!" Aela forced him into standing. "Go get your man. We'll be awaiting the results tomorrow morning…" She winked and practically shoved him inside.

As the door shut behind Vincent, he blinked…vaguely aware that damnit, he was the harbinger and he really shouldn't be shoved around like that by the people he is supposed to guide. He knew Aela was harmless about it but he would have to keep a better eye on Ria. The circle he didn't mind being in his personal business. They had gone through hell with him and almost died to save him from his demons. Though ALL of the companions were family…Vincent would have to get used to letting more people in.

He knew where to find Vilkas. He'd be in their room, 'grumping about'. Vincent made sure to muffle his footsteps as he walked but deep down he knew it was in vain. Vilkas had been a werewolf and just because the wolf was gone didn't mean the senses diminished. Vilkas would hear him coming…but part of him felt like this was a covert operation.

He really thinks it would just be easier to simply ask…

Vincent peeked around the corner to find Vilkas in their room with his back to him. He was setting his training sword up on a stand next to his two-handed sword and Vincent's bastard sword. He watched Vilkas wipe the lingering sweat from his brow and stretch his arms upward. Vincent tried not to (But failed miserably) watch how the muscles in Vilkas' back rippled as he moved and stretched. His breath caught slightly in his throat and he saw Vilkas still for the briefest of seconds before resuming. Vincent knew the gig was up now. If Vilkas hadn't heard him before, he had now. Now, he was just playing it cool and waiting for Vincent to come to him. Smug bastard…

'okay…' Vincent coached himself in his head. 'be dominate. I can't be too hard…I mean…Vilkas will understand. He loves me after all…' Vincent walked in with a smile and Vilkas turned to greet him…still shitless…and with a disapproving scowl on his face. 'Gods, I'm fucked.'

"Hey." Vincent greeted and shut their door wisely.

"What was that all about?" Vilkas stated, ignoring a proper greeting.

Vincent, as usual, went on the defensive. "You shouldn't have put your finger in my mouth."

Vilkas crossed his arms. "So you can't control yourself?"

"I didn't say that." Vincent huffed. "I was just giving you what you deserved."

Vilkas' eyes instantly narrowed dangerously. Well shit. He uncrossed his arms and moved closer to Vincent. Vincent recognized the look and quickly voided himself of his coat and gloves, throwing them on a nearby chair and out of the oncoming storm.

Vilkas loomed over him, close enough that their chests were touching and they just stared at each other for a good three minutes in silence. Vincent slowly reached up and ran his fingertips along Vilkas' abs, caressing the hard bumps of flesh in a soothing manner. Vilkas' icy gaze softened but not by much. He wasn't really mad, Vilkas could tell. Just clearly frustrated.

So Vincent leaned in and kissed Vilkas' clavicle gently, turning his big blue eyes up so they kept eye contact. He tasted the warmth oh his flesh and the slightly salty taste of his sweat slicked skin. He may have purred at the taste but he found himself unable to care. Vilkas' strong hand, threaded through his hair and caressed the base of his scalp making Vincent purr louder. He loved being pet. So what?

Vilkas pulled away so he could grab the hem of Vincent's shirt and pulled it upwards. Vincent lifted his arms to ease the process and Vilkas tossed the shirt somewhere nearby. Vilkas wrapped his arms around Vincent and pulled him toward their bed. Vincent felt like this was now or never. He waited until they got closer and then pushed Vilkas flat against the bed. Now with the spirits aid, he was much stronger and had no problem holding Vilkas down. (not always) He mounted Vilkas' hips and put a hand on either side of Vilkas' head.

Vilkas did not struggle however. He just stared up at Vincent with a curious look, and it almost made Vincent lose his nerve. Usually unless they were fighting about magic and mages, their lovemaking was calm, slow and sensual. He could feel Vilkas' strong hands running along his sides, tracing old and new scars. Vincent knew that Vilkas felt guilt for some of them. Some scars, even though not done by Vilkas' hand, were done with his blade. His hands always move more careful over those marks, more tenderly and Vincent could hear the unspoken apology. Vincent would always give an unspoken statement back through eye contact. 'It's not your fault.'

Vincent shifted his weight and moved to help Vilkas remove his pants. He took his own off in the process before he resumed position. Instantly, Vilkas' strong calloused hands rubbed Vincent's inner thighs enticingly and Vincent almost automatically shifted to give Vilkas the space he needed to prep him. Vincent suddenly reminded himself not to get lost in the feel of Vilkas' fingers and remained planted. Vilkas tilted his head in an unspoken question and moved his hands up higher.

Vincent shivered, loving his rough touch on his skin but grabbed Vilkas' hands and pinned them quickly to the bed. Vilkas stayed silent and watched Vincent carefully, obviously unsure what his mate was up to. Vincent bit his own bottom lip in thought. He decided to try what never failed to turn him on. He surged forward and covered Vilkas' lips with his own. He nipped and licked at Vilkas' bottom lip in an almost feral way and heard Vilkas let out a pleased growl in response. Vilkas' arms tried to lift, most likely in favor of wrapping themselves around the mage but Vincent tried to keep him pinned. Vilkas' growl grew slightly more ferocious and Vincent could feel his strong lovers' muscle tense under him.

Vincent may have had enhanced strength due to the spirits merging with him but Vilkas still had years upon years of combat experience and maneuvers. Vincent's strength was supernatural and Vilkas' strength was natural. In a contest such as this, the poor battle mage never had a chance.

With an agile twist of Vilkas' trained and toned body, Vincent found himself toppled from his perch. Before he could even hit the sheets, Vilkas was on him, twisting his arm back in a tight but harmless hold. Vincent found his cheek pressed against the mattress and Vilkas holding his legs down with his own strong thighs. Vilkas held him in such a way that Vincent's free arm could only grip the sheets. His free arm was otherwise useless unless he planned to attack Vilkas with magic. Since that is something that would never ever happen, Vincent was stuck.

That didn't stop him from flailing about like a fish. He heard an amused chuckle pass Vilkas' lips and his grip didn't falter. Vincent shivered as he felt Vilkas' free hand run from the dip in his back toward his ass. Vincent sucked in his breath when he felt a moist finger breech him and almost moaned at the familiar feeling. When the hell had he lubricated his fingers?!

"V-Vilkas!" Vincent hissed in a half-hearted protest.

"Shh." Vilkas hushed him, keeping his grip firm and commanding.

"Hey! Wait a minute…-!" Vincent was cut off when Vilkas touched something very nice inside him and he suddenly forgot what he was about to say.

\------  
Aela and Ria were lurking downstairs in the morning. Vilkas was the first out and walked past them with a curt silent nod. They greeted back and watched carefully. When he didn't stumble or limp at all, they both frowned and turned back to the door to question Vincent. Vincent limped slightly toward them with a scowl on his face. He already knew he was going to hear it from them.

"So…" Aela began as predicted. "didn't go so well?"

"What do you think?" Vincent snapped, slightly irritated. Vilkas did NOT go easy on him last night and the persistent sting that shot up his spine was a constant reminder. His accelerated healing helped but the ache lingered.

"Touchy." Aela held up her hands defensively but she was smiling. "So what went wrong?"

"It just didn't work." Vincent huffed. He really didn't want to go into detail. Vilkas in the throws of passion and lust were only for Vincent's sight and memory. Gods, he could still clearly remember the feeling of Vilkas' slick hard cock sliding hotly into him. The feel of his hands, the pounding of his hips, the sound of his growls… "Divines, help me…" Vincent breathed a bit strained then he would have liked. He really needed to keep his mind from wandering to dirty places. Ria seemed to miss to breathy tone in the harbinger's voice but nothing got past Aela.

"Focus Vincent." She snapped in front of his face and he swatted her fingers away, grumpy. She smiled, undeterred. "we'll need to try something else."

"Maybe I should just ask him Aela…" Vincent crossed his arms defensively. "It might be easier."

"Nonsense." Aela tutted, then snapped her fingers. "Get him drunk."

"…What?"

"Get him drunk!" Aela grinned. "That will work."

"…" Vincent scowl deepened. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"don't knock it before you try it." Aela shrugged,.

"And don't scowl so much." Ria added. "You'll get wrinkles."

"…" Both Aela and Vincent stared at her for a good ten minutes.

"What?" Ria asked, fidgeting. "It's true!"

\-------------  
"you're up to something." Vilkas stated bringing the second mug Vincent had brought to him in the last hour, to his lips.

"No, I'm not." Vincent answered a bit too quickly.

Vilkas eyed him suspiciously. "Drink with me then."

Vincent shook his head quickly. "I can't keep up."

Vilkas put the mug down before taking a sip out of it and handed it to Vincent before getting one of his own. "I'll tell you what…" Vilkas began. "I'll drink a full mug for every half mug you drink. Fair?"

Vincent hesitated. The red light in his head came on telling him that Vilkas was probably on to him but he wasn't too much of a lightweight…Vilkas had already had one full mug of mead so Vincent had a slight advantage in that…

"Okay." he agreed. Mistake one.

"Aye then." Vilkas smirked and Vincent wasn't sure if he was unnerved or slightly turned on by it. Letting his guard down just because this was the man he loved was mistake two.

A drinking contest with a Nord male who had been drinking half his life was mistake three. Vincent was hammered long before Vilkas was and ended up passing out on Vilkas' lap.

\---------  
"Well maybe we can try-"

"No." Vincent huffed, cutting Aela off.

"You didn't even let me finish." She huffed.

"Too bad." Vincent huffed right back. "I'm not doing this anymore."

"So you're just giving up!?" Ria exclaimed, setting her mead down. Vincent's stomach turned as he eyed the liquid. He didn't want to even smell mead for at least two months.

"I'm not giving anything up." he countered her outburst. "I'm just not doing these hair-brained schemes anymore."

"But how are you going to top him then?" Ria whined.

"Vincent." Vilkas' voice was suddenly so close that the redhead jumped. Aela and Ria's eyes widened slightly and they tensed. When did Vilkas become a ninja?

"Yeah?" Vincent asked looking over. He wondered how much Vilkas had heard. By the look on his grumpy face…everything.

"Lets talk, aye?" He began to walk away without waiting for a response. Gods, Vincent was in trouble.

Aela muttered a "good luck" to him and Ria gave an apologetic look. He cursed them both under his breath as he followed Vilkas' retreating figure. Vilkas led them back to their room and firmly shut the door. He crossed his arms and scowled at the Harbinger.

"Well?" he asked. "Explain."

Vincent sighed. Damnit all. "I'm sorry."

"What are you even sorry for?" Vilkas asked, not uncrossing his arms.

Vincent wasn't sure how to answer that at first. "I…should have just asked you…"

"Asked me what?"

Damn, Vilkas was going to draw this out. "I wanted to try being dominate."

"…" Vilkas cocked his head to the side.

Vincent fidgeted. "before you say anything, I shouldn't have listened to Aela and I wont ever again about us."

Vilkas rolled his eyes, much to Vincent's surprised and let his hands fall to his sides. "Really…Vincent."

"I know." Vincent sighed. "I wanted to just ask you but Aela insisted that I try a different approach."

Vilkas closed the distance easily and cupped Vincent chin, tilting upwards. "I don't get how you can be so smart and foolish at the same time."

"Talent." Vincent cracked a small smile and felt a serge of relief when he saw Vilkas mirror it. Vilkas leaned in as if to kiss him and Vincent tried to arch into it. Vilkas kept his lips close but just out of reach. "Hey…"

"Ask again."

Vincent blinked. "What? It's fine…really I don't have to-"

"Ask. Again." Vilkas spoke firmly.

Vincent took in a deep breath. "Can I be on top…?"

"Aye." Vilkas answered instantly.

"Really?"

"Aye." Vilkas nodded.

"I honestly didn't think you'd go for it."

Vilkas pulled back and started removing his armor. "Once I thought it would be…demeaning." he admitted. "But with you…I don't think that way."

"I probably won't be any good." Vincent spoke nervously. "I've never…DONE it like that before." He'd always been bottom and before Vilkas, he'd been a virgin.

"You've thought about it, Aye?" Vilkas exposed more of his naked skin to Vincent's hungry gaze.

"Y-yes…"

"You'll be fine then." Once his shirt was off he strode forward, grabbing Vincent by the back of his head and pulling him into a crushing kiss. Vincent stopped thinking of excuses now…

 

"Do you want me to prepare you?" Vincent asked, kneeling between Vilkas' legs.

Vilkas looked at him, resting his cheek on his hand. "Aye. If you want. I can do it myself if you don't want to."

"No." Vincent shook his head, feeling goose bumps raise on his naked form. "I'll do it." He took the lubricant from Vilkas' fingers and coated his own in them. He'd prepared himself before so doing it to someone else shouldn't be too hard.

Vilkas obediently spread his legs wider to accommodate his little lover and Vincent smiled at him in appreciation. He carefully inserted a slick finger and watched Vilkas' face for any sign of discomfort. Finding none for the moment, he began moving it, trying to loosen the passage for what's to come. When another finger was added, the only sign that Vilkas felt any discomfort at all was a small grunt that passed his lips.

"You okay?" Vincent asked, not stopping unless Vilkas asked him to. To his relief, Vilkas nodded.

"I'm fine."

"Okay." Vincent could feel his cheeks reddening. He was already so hard at the thought of being inside Vilkas and his manhood was throbbing painfully. He hooked his fingers in a way that he personally liked and allowed a small smile when he felt Vilkas tense around his fingers.

He managed to squeeze a third finger in and groaned slightly at how tight Vilkas was. He wanted to feel that tightness on his cock and bury deep inside the warmth of his soon to be husband.

"It's enough." Vilkas grunted and Vincent didn't miss the strain in his voice.

"Are you sure?"

"Aye."

Vincent pulled his fingers out gently, not one to complain about it. He knew if it really got too much for Vilkas, he'd say something. Vincent lubed up his own manhood, biting his bottom lip slightly as he did so before positioning himself at Vilkas' entrance. His own heart was racing in anticipation and slight anxiety. He wanted this to be good for Vilkas too and he didn't want to ruin this. Vilkas nudged Vincent with his foot to get his attention. They met eyes and Vilkas was calm and collected. His icy eyes were clear and strong. He was ready.

Vincent nudged himself in slowly and he felt like he was a virgin again. Every inch he slid in, he felt like he wanted to explode. He wanted to bury himself deep and quickly but he held himself back. Vilkas had admitted that he 'ONCE' received and that he had not cared too much for it. Last thing Vincent wanted to do was hurt Vilkas in his own eagerness. Vincent managed to breathe a sigh as he got all the way in. He braced his hands on either side of Vilkas' head and tried to still his hips. It was a lot harder then it looked. Vilkas was so tight and every fiber in his body screamed at him to move…but he would wait until Vilkas was okay.

In a few moments, Vilkas nodded stiffly and spread his legs a bit wider for ease of access. Vincent pulled out slowly before pushing back in; faster this time. Vincent's mouth opened slightly as he repeated the action over and over. It felt…amazing. Vilkas squeezed him in all the right ways and given time, he would become much better at this. IF Vilkas let him…

Vilkas remained calm and collected through the process but Vincent could tell by Vilkas' icy eyes that he was affected by this. They were slightly clouded and hazy with lust and with every thrust of Vincent's slender hips, Vilkas' leg muscles twitched.

Vincent knew that somewhere deep inside was something fantastic…and is he could find it inside Vilkas, it would make this much more enjoyable for both of them. Vincent stopped thrusting so he could shift his hips slightly upwards. Once he got the angle, he thrust forward again and couldn't help the grin that came to his face when he felt Vilkas do a full body twitch. The thrust again and saw Vilkas arch up slightly. His blue eyes shut and he barred his throat. Vincent took the hint and leaned down to bite and lick at that slightly tanned expanse of flesh before him.

He heard Vilkas growl in pleasure and it made Vincent shiver. It gave him the confidence needed to go faster and let go of all his reservations. He sucked on Vilkas' neck to muffle his own noises of bliss and pleasure. He knew he'd probably leave a giant purple welt on Vilkas'; neck afterwards but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. Not entirely lost in his own ecstasy, Vincent reached between them to palm Vilkas in time with his rapid tempo.

Vilkas gasped at the duel stimulus and grabbed Vincent tightly as his legs began to twitch. Vincent could feel hot pressure pooling at his groin and knew it was only a matter of time before he came. He was honestly surprised that he'd lasted as long as he has.

Now, in all the times that Vincent had been intimate with Vilkas, he'd come to realize he had a quiet lover. Vilkas was not very vocal about his pleasure. A grunt or a growl but usually that was it. Not that Vincent hated those things, mind you and he'd just come to accept it. But now…Vilkas made a sound when Vincent thrust in just the right place and it was unlike one he'd ever heard before.

Vilkas moaned. It was low and husky, much like his growls and also like his growls it sent hot pleasure shooting to Vincent's groin and the battle mage couldn't hold on any longer. With a harsh cry he rapidly thrust into Vilkas' tight passage and filled it up. He heard Vilkas hiss through clenched teeth before getting his Vincent's hand and both their chests dirty.

Once Vincent could get his breath back, he set to work in cleaning them up. Vilkas laid still with his eyes closed, clearly relaxing by the even tempo of his breathing. Vincent cleaned them both to his best ability before drying them with a clean bathing cloth and getting in bed beside his lover. He cuddled up to Vilkas, happy when the Master-at-arms instantly pulled him into a tight embrace. Vincent shut his eyes and took in the scent of the man he loved, now a bit stronger and smelling slightly of sex. He rubbed one of his marred hands along the hair on Vilkas' chest and smiled at an old memory. Hard to believe they once hated each other. Well…technically not TOO hard to believe but feeling the way he does now?

"I hope that was okay." He muttered more to himself then to Vilkas but knew Vilkas heard him anyway.

Vilkas scoffed. "You did fine." He tightened his grip on the battle mage and hid his nose in Vincent's crimson hair. Vincent almost chuckled when he felt Vilkas suddenly breathe in, knowing that Vilkas was intentionally smelling him too.

"You sure?" Vincent prodded with a worn out smile.

Vilkas huffed. "Want me to write you a damn letter?" He asked in a grumpy way. "Aye you did fine. You'll do even better next time. Now sleep."

Vincent's heart skipped a beat for a minute and he was almost giddy in happiness. 'next time' hum?

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Aela and Ria were in the hall the next day, conversing among themselves when Vincent and Vilkas stepped out of their room. Vilkas gave Vincent a parting kiss on the forehead before strapping his sword to his back and walking past the ladies to get to the stairs. To both their surprise, they saw Vilkas had a slight limp. He noticed their stares and jutted his chin out proudly before walking away without a word.

They turned on Vincent who was also on his way by.

"Vincent!" Aela began excitedly. "Did you-"

Vincent held up a hand to silence her and just kept on walking. "I'm not telling."

"Ah come on!"

"No."

"You big tease!"

Vincent ignored her and continued on his way…but nothing was going to wipe the smile from his face today.


	32. All these words I don't just say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This man would be the death of him. He just knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Big gay wedding :) More porn. mead as lubricant...(WHUT) I'm just getting weirder with these.

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_4E 199, 4th Sun's dusk_

They were getting married today. It had been a long and bumpy road but they were finally tying up all loose ends in their relationship. Vilkas was under the firm impression that they did not need to be married to prove that they loved each other and Vincent had whole heartedly agreed. They were basically married already…all that was left was for everyone else to see so too.

In the days leading up, Vincent spent time planning with Aela and Ria. Vincent, much like Vilkas, did not want a giant wedding. A few official words, a kiss perhaps and that would be enough. Aela insisted on a huge feast at Jorrvaskr afterwards in which the couple relented. Invitation was easy. Everyone in Jorrvaskr was invited to go and only one invitation (Which was sent by Vincent personally) was not of the companions. Needless to say, when Vilkas found out…he didn't take it well.

"Her?" Vilkas asked with an annoyed expression and crossed his arms. He glared at his mate, who seemed to shrug off Vilkas' foul mood and continued writing away at his desk without even so much as glancing up at him.

"Yes. Why not?"

Vilkas slammed his hands on the desk but Vincent managed to pull his quill back from the page he was writing on before he ruined his work. Vincent didn't even so much as flinch. "How about she tries to eye-hump you every time she see's you!?"

"Oh hush, Vilkas. She does not."

"Aye! She Does!"

"You're just overreacting Vilkas." The redhead spoke calmly, setting his work aside for the moment. "Cassandra is a nice girl and she did help us find Cadrian."

Vilkas visibly seethed. "I don't trust her."

"Because she's a mage." Vincent stated deadpanned. He was obviously sick of this argument.

"Aye." Vilkas growled. "One reason among many."

Vincent raised a fine skeptical eyebrow. "Need I remind you that you sleep, eat and frequently get weird with a mage?"

Vilkas' scowl deepened. "You're different."

"Uh hun." Vincent nodded, not sounding convinced.

"You EARNED my trust."

"Earned?" Vincent scoffed. "I do vaguely recall you hating me for my magic but wanting to screw my brains out at the same time."

"Vincent…" Vilkas growled a warning but his pretty-little redheaded lover ignored it.

"And marking me before you even really got to know me…" he continued, looking up at the ceiling in whimsy. "And I lied to you for the first half of our relationship…"

"Vincent…"

"Oh, and all that sexual tension between us was enough to drive us and everyone around us crazy. Yet you still wanted me and I was…AM a mage."

Vilkas surged forward and grabbed Vincent by the chin. Vincent grinned, knowing that Vilkas wouldn't hurt him and stared back defiantly. The little shit…

"Shut. It" Vincent stuck out his tongue and Vilkas narrowed his eyes. "Put it away before you lose it."

"So mean." Vincent rolled his eyes. "I'm not changing my mind Vilkas. She's coming to the wedding."

Vilkas growled. "Must she?"

"Yes."

"Great…"

"Look on the bright side Vilkas."

"There is a bright side to this?"

Vincent rolled his eyes again and put a hand over the one holding his chin. "If she wants me like you say she does, she'll have to sit there and watch me marry you."

Vilkas blinked. He didn't think about it that way. "…"

"Better?" Vincent asked, his smile growing. "Although I don't think she likes me in such a way. I'm inviting her also to improve relations between our factions."

"Shush."

"Don't shush me!" Vincent sassed with a smile still present on his face. "I'm the Harbinger, damnit."

"Shh." Vilkas tried again, a soft smile coming to his own face.

"Shh yourself! You are a-"  
Vincent was cut off when Vilkas' lips descended on his. He let out a mewling purr of satisfaction and Vilkas felt Vincent's arms slide around him and try to pull him closer. Vilkas almost chuckled and pulled back slightly.

"Really? Right here?"

"Why not?" The redhead's smile was now coy. "Remember…I kind of like it when we fight."

"Mmm…" Vilkas made a noise in agreement. Only battle and Vincent could ever get his blood pumping this way. "What if someone walks in?"

"It's my office. I'd hope they have the manners to knock first."

It was Vilkas' turn to raise an eyebrow. "Have you not met Aela?"

Vincent shrugged. "I don't really care. Come get weird with me."

Vilkas couldn't argue with that.

They did end up 'getting weird' right there in Vincent's chair and partly on the desk. Vilkas awoke with a slightly stiff back and pleasant memories of the night before. He remembered Vincent arching against the chair, his bare legs sliding around Vilkas' waist to keep him in place. He remembers the roll of his insistent hips, wanting more from him with each passing second. He remembers and feels the scratches across his back and shoulders. He remembers seeing his lovers blue eyes at that moment of ecstasy.

…Needless to say he awoke with an obvious problem and had to wake his lover to ease the situation. Vincent didn't seem to mind, thankfully.

Then the day had finally arrived. Vilkas awoke and found himself at ease. He kissed his little lover, soon to be husband, on the lips to wake him. Vincent had opened his eyes and smiled calmly. Vilkas ran a strong hand through those crimson locks of hair and watched Vincent's smile widen.

"Good morning." The redhead took Vilkas' hand and pulled it down to his lips. Vilkas couldn't help but smile as Vincent pecked the inside of his palm over and over.

"Morning." Vilkas answered and pulled his hand away from Vincent's lips in favor of wrapping it around his waist. He pulled the redhead closer and laid his chin atop Vincent's head. He heard Vincent let out a soft sigh in pleasure and snuggle into the crook of his neck. When Vilkas swallowed he could feel his lover's lips press against his adam's apple. That sent a few sparks of arousal igniting in Vilkas' lower half but before he could act upon it a harsh knock came to the door.

Vincent pulled away. "Just a moment!" He got up with more energy than a man just rousing from sleep should have and started to dress. Vilkas gruffed and sat up, silently enjoying the small show of his naked lover scrambling to get clothes on. Seeing all the fresh scars on his little mate always sparked unpleasant memories of not too long ago but Vilkas pushed them aside for today. Today was not as day for remembering the bad. Today he was to move forward with the man he loved, not backward.

Once Vincent seemed presentable, he opened up the door and Tilma, Aela and Ria came busting in and grabbed the redhead.

"Come on Vincent!" Ria cheered. "Time to go!"

"Isn't it early? The wedding isn't until four in the afternoon." Vincent protested weakly but Aela wagged a finger at him.

"Never too early. Say goodbye to Vilkas, Vincent because you're not going to see him until the wedding."

Vilkas scowled. "Who says?"

"I say." Aela grinned.

"Yeah!" Ria agreed. "It will make the moment just that more special."

Tilma cleared her throat. "Ladies…" Vilkas wasn't sure whether or not she was being sarcastic using that word to describe Aela and Ria. "…It is all well and dandy that you're excited about this joyful day, but I see that our Master at arms is not in proper dress to be in present company other than the Harbingers."

Ria's eyes widened and locked on Vilkas as if it was the first time seeing him. Vilkas huffed. Yeah, he was naked but his lower half was covered with a sheet. Aela raised an eyebrow and her smirk grew wider. Vincent just seemed embarrassed.

"Ria…" Tilma warned.

"Yes…lets be off shall we?" Aela pushed the still staring Ria out the door and Vilkas heard Ria squeak as she probably tripped. Vilkas rolled his eyes. Vilkas suddenly remembered why he had never tried to sleep with any of the girls in Jorrvaskr. Besides not really being attracted to them, seeing most of them like siblings after all…They were also all crazy…. Aela grabbed Vincent next and almost forcibly shoved him out the door. Vilkas heard Vincent call out a farewell to him before Tilma shut the door so Vilkas could get up and dress in peace.

Vilkas got up and dressed himself in his clothes and armor, like any other day. He applied his war paint and made the bed before going over to his sword stand. He pulled his two handed blade off the wall and sat in the chair by the door as he grabbed a whetstone. He also pulled oil and a rag out of the drawer and began his task of meticulously caring for his weapon. About halfway through the process, another knock came to the door.

"Aye?" He called without looking up.

Torvar, Athis and Farkas all waltzed in and looked at him silently. Vilkas was content to continue caring for his blade but the eyes on him made him feel uneasy. So he sighed deeply and looked up at them with his eyes narrowed. Torvar had his arms folded defensively and looked a tad peeved off in Vilkas direction. Athis looked like he was about to pass a kidney stone and Farkas seemed normal, if not a bit exasperated.

"What is it?" Vilkas asked, already wanting to get this over with.

"What exactly is it you're doing to prepare?" Torvar snapped.

"Prepare?"

"For your wedding?" He seemed really annoyed. Vilkas wasn't surprised.

"Nothing." He turned back to his blade.

Before Torvar could snap at him, Athis chimed in. "Nothing? What do you mean nothing?"

"This isn't a big deal." Vilkas explained, not bothering with eye contact and focused on his sword.

"It IS a big deal!" Torvar yelled but Farkas gripped him by the arm in a silent warning not to do anything stupid. Torvar checked himself and cleared his throat before continuing in a much lighter tone. "You're marring our harbinger today."

"I am aware. I'm not a moron." Vilkas spoke deadpanned and didn't look up at him. He could almost hear Torvar bristling and he didn't need to look up to see that.

"So you're not even going to dress differently?"

"There is no reason to." Vilkas remained calm even though Torvar was grating on his nerves. "Vincent will take me as I am. There is no need to change anything about my looks."

"I tried to tell them this, brother." Farkas finally spoke. "They insisted on coming down here."

"Torvar insisted." Athis covered his own ass and ignored the glare form Torvar.

Vilkas stopped mid motion and sighed. He set his yet unfinished blade aside and stood up. Athis looked like he instantly wanted to run for cover but settled for hiding behind Farkas instead….although he'd deny ever hiding. He stopped in front of Torvar and locked eyes with him. Farkas still had a grip on Torvar's arm but it was loose.

Vilkas' icy blue eyes stared directly into Torvar's darker blue hues. He saw Torvar's courage waver slightly and Vilkas could of almost sworn he heard his wolf growl at Torvar's incompetence. His wolf had been gone for a while but he still felt somewhat connected to the beast. From time to time he would swear he could hear old echoes of the creature in his head, but the hunger was gone. Finally Torvar looked away and Vilkas crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"I know why you've come down here and I believe we already settled this, Torvar." Vilkas nearly growled in annoyance. "We will not speak of this again. Do you understand me?"

Torvar was silent for a minute, probably trying to think of something he could say to sound smarter then he actually was. He settled on "Whatever" before he tore his arm away from Farkas and left the room.

Athis nodded respectfully to Vilkas. "I'll go talk to him."

"Make sure he doesn't get too drunk." Vilkas scolded. "Vincent wants all the companions there."

"Sure thing." He ran after Torvar, leaving the twins alone in the room.

"What was that all about?" Farkas asked.

Vilkas sat back down and picked his sword back up, resuming the work he'd been trying to complete. "Torvar was just being jealous." He answers simply.

Farkas leaned against the door. "Jealous, hum?"

"Aye." Vilkas shrugged. "When Vincent first joined us, I supposed Torvar showed some interest. I'd picked up on it but Vincent didn't show him interest in return. I suppose he holds a small grudge."

"Grudge?" Farkas raised an eyebrow. "Should we go talk with him?"

"No. I already have…awhile ago. He won't let his sore feelings get in the way of the companions and his work. Let him just be…" Vilkas thought for a proper word at that moment and almost smiled. Almost. "…a sore loser."

"You sound so pleased." Farkas commented.

Vilkas shrugged. He supposed he was slightly. He was a very possessive man when he wanted to be and he'd beaten out Cassandra, Torvar, Cadrian and Daric for Vincent. He'd earned the right to be proud about it. He wasn't out to rub it in Torvar's face though…Maybe Cassandra's but only because he hated her with the intensity of a thousand burning suns…

No, his goal was not to hurt Torvar but he wasn't going to give Torvar any room for hope either. Vincent was going to be his husband and that's that. Bottom line. End of story. They'd had that conversation before and Vilkas knew Torvar was at least smart enough to remember that…but he also figured that Torvar was already drunk…and a drunken Torvar was either a confrontational one or a happy one. Today, confrontational. That attitude better change before the wedding though. Vilkas would hate to interrupt a happy moment to put a surly drunk in his place.

"Are you nervous?" Farkas asked softly.

Vilkas blinked. "No. Should I be?"

Farkas shrugged. "I am."

"What for?"

"…" Farkas stared at Vilkas for a long moment. "Because. This is the stuff people get nervous about. You're my brother. My blood and my kin."

"I get it." Vilkas finally finished his blade and inspected his handiwork. "I appreciate it brother but Vincent is already mine. We are just making it official for others sake."

Farkas scoffed but sounded amused. "Our sake, hum? More like so no one else tries to claim him."

"That too." Vilkas admitted, and nodded once he was satisfied with his work. He stood up, grabbing his sheath and strapping it to his back before sliding his blade into place.

Farkas grinned at his brother and Vilkas found his mood infectious. He cracked a smile of his own and walked over, putting as hand on Farkas' shoulder. Farkas mirrored his action and pressed their forehead's together. They'd gone through hell together and emerged from it stronger than ever. Vilkas knew that neither of them thought it would ever be like this. They were no longer children with foolish dreams of glory and pride. That glory had become reality and they earned it. That pride had been bruised and humility learned the hard way but they were stronger for it.

Life moved on as it always would, with or without them. The reality of it would make a strong man feel weak but not them. Kodlak and Skjor were gone and although Vilkas missed them terribly and wished they could both be here to share this day with them, he knew he couldn't linger on it. Besides, he knew Grace…or was it Talos… watched over them with favor…maybe Kodlak and Skjor were watching too.

Vilkas looked into the eyes that matched his own and smiled broadly. He was his twin mirror the smile and everything in that moment was perfect. There was nothing to fear and everything was going to be okay.

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Time passed quickly and within hours of waking, Vilkas found himself on a carriage with his shield brothers and sisters, with the destination of Riften in mind. He should say Sister, though. Njada was the only woman present on the carriage. Tilma, Ria and Aela had all stayed with Vincent…wherever it was they vanished off to. Torvar seemed in a better mood and spoke avidly with Athis and Farkas about the feast sure to follow the wedding procedure. Leave it to food and booze to cheer up almost any man in Jorrvaskr. Njada was being Njada and looked surly the entire ride.

Vilkas remembered the first time Njada had met his soon to be husband. From what he heard from Tilma, it seemed they were about to get into a fist fight but due to Tilma's interference, they backed away from each other. Looking back, Vilkas was sure Njada would have knocked the mage flat…now…he wasn't so sure. Vincent usually held his temper in check quite well but certain things got instantly under his skin. The argument of magic seemed to be one…Although that became less of an issue and Vincent seemed less defensive about it…at least when it came to Vilkas. Anything to do with his 'sister', Cadrian, Daric, or really his past in general, could put the redhead into a fiery mood. Njada would just have to say just the right thing and Vilkas wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold the Harbinger in check.

Even though Vilkas knew everything now, Vincent didn't like talking about it. Ever. The last time he'd even mentioned it was shortly after Cadrian's death when it was reveled to them that Vincent's wayward mother, Lilliana was really that monster's sister… That man who had humiliated him, nearly raped him, chased him for nine long years, killed and manipulated a once dear friend of his, mentally and physically abused him and murdered his sister…was really his uncle. Family. The only true blood relative that Vincent had left. Vincent had ended that cruelty by his own hand and although he wore a smile, Vilkas was the one who slept beside him and he knew that knowledge had broken Vincent. Not even his father was really his father. He wasn't even a Renalt. It was a borrowed name from a kind man who saved his mother.

Looking back, Vilkas knew why Lilliana Belemonde had not told her son everything. It was the same carnal feeling he had to protect the one he loved from everything that would do it harm. She wanted to protect her baby boy from the horrors of the world and from within her own twisted bloodline. Love made her lie and Vilkas knew that love made you do things you wouldn't normally do. Vilkas tried to talk to Vincent but the mage refused to hear it. He wanted to move on and forget and Vilkas really couldn't blame him.

Then again, they didn't even really need to talk about it. It was that feeling of knowing someone so well that words became useless. He'd just know…when something was wrong. Some days he'd catch Vincent starring into space, his blue eyes murky and unfocused on some distant memory. The subtle twitch of Vincent's lips and the slow inching horror that would creep into his eyes was enough for Vilkas to interfere. He'd snap the mage out of it and hug him until he felt him calm. Vilkas liked to compare those moments to old war veterans, who had seen his comrades die and had flashes of the horrors of war. He'd seen them come and go within his time at Jorrvaskr and hell, Skjor was one. He'd sometimes hear him screaming at night from the nightmares.

The scars on Vincent's body had healed and only left faint marks but Vilkas knew not all scars were on the outside. Vilkas told everyone he was marrying Vincent to make it official. It was only half the reason. He was marrying Vincent not only because he loved him but because he wanted the mage to heal. Sentimental for a man like Vilkas? Maybe. He couldn't bring himself to care though.

A hand on Vilkas' shoulder brought him back to Nirn. Farkas smiled down at him but Vilkas could tell he was nervous. How silly.

"We're here. Ready?"

"Aye." Vilkas did his best to put his nervous brother at ease. "I'm ready."

 

The chapel at Riften was a pretty place, Vilkas supposed. He tried not coming to Riften as often as possible. A treasure trove of villainy and corrupt law…that and Vilkas had heard the Thieves guild was back in business and stationed somewhere within the city limits. He wanted now, more than ever, for this to be done and over with. They all piled out of the carriage and made for the temple of Mara in the center of the city. Since it was later in the afternoon, not many people where out and about at this time of day. Vilkas just thanked Talos for small favors and walked confidently toward the temple. Farkas pushed open the doors and let everyone in before firmly shutting them behind.

"Ah! You must be here for the wedding!" A Redguard priest stepped forward with his arms outstretched. He stopped and looked between Farkas and Vilkas. "One of you…yes?"

"Aye. Me." Vilkas answered. Vincent must have just given the priest a description.

"Good! Good! Oh this is such a happy day. Now we simply wait on the…" He hesitated for a moment. "…Groom." He finished wisely.

He stepped away and Vilkas had a moment to look around. In the front row on the side Vincent would be standing on…sat Cassandra. She was done up pretty in her mage robes and obviously spent a lot of time making herself look as pretty as possible for this. She was smiling politely but Vilkas could see through it and it made his blood want to boil. Witch.

She was talking avidly with that Khajiit mage that had accompanied her when she came to visit Jorrvaskr. J'zargo, Vilkas thinks his name was. As Vilkas moved closer to the front with Farkas and the other companions in tow, he could catch bits and pieces of their conversation.

"What do you think she's like…the Harbinger's wife, I mean?"

He heard J'zargo chuckling. "Manly." Vilkas' lips formed a straight line. So the Khajiit wasn't as stupid as Vilkas first thought.

"Manly?" Cassandra whispered but not softly enough. "Well...I suppose. All the women there are used to intense martial combat…Do you think I'm prettier then she is?" Vilkas could hear the anxiety in her voice. Poor fool.

Vilkas cleared his throat before this got too out of hand and he saw Cassandra jump in surprise. Vilkas walked past her, pretending he didn't hear a word of her conversation and stood up front near the priest. Farkas, Njada, Athis and Tovar all sat on the side Vilkas was standing on. Vilkas stood with his hands behind his back and took on a rigid posture as he waited.

He watched Cassandra cover her mouth and lean over to J'zargo. "Why is he standing up there?" She attempted to whisper. Vilkas fought back the impulse to roll his eyes at her. Later he would tell her that hiding her mouth wither hand did nothing to muffle her words.

"He is the Harbinger's Master-at-arms, milady." Vilkas caught the sarcastic edge in his voice and the Khajiit looked quite pleased by this whole situation "There is no reason for him to NOT be up there."

"Hmm…I guess."

The door creaked open and Tilma shuffled in with a tissue to hide her tear soaked old face. Ria followed close behind, her hands on the old woman's shoulders, trying to comfort her. Crying already…It made Vilkas smile. Sentimental old biddy. They sat in the seat behind Cassandra and waited patiently. Within moments Aela and Vincent walked in. Aela was gripping Vincent's sleeve, her knuckles white as she walked with him down the small aisle. She looked at least ten times more scared then Vincent did and she wasn't even the one getting married. Vincent…he was smiling that happy smile. A smile of a man who no longer had anything to fear and Vilkas could have sworn he felt himself fall in love all over again. His heart beat just a little bit faster when they locked eyes and he felt his breath catch when Vincent's whole face brightened in response. He was happy…and that was all Vilkas could ask for.

Cassandra's eyes were locked firmly on Aela…obviously thinking THAT was her competition. Vilkas caught the brief glare and scowl that followed before she hid it away behind a fake smile. The priest seemed overjoyed and held his arms out again.

"Ah. Now we are all here. Let's begin the ceremony."

Vincent walked up with Aela still clinging and smiled at Vilkas. "Hey." Vincent's voice seemed a bit breathless but calm.

"Hi." Vilkas spoke back as steady as he possibly could. He was a bit nervous deep down but he'd be damned if he showed it.

The priest held his hands up over the procession and Vincent looked to Aela and smiled kindly. "I'll be okay. Go take a seat Aela…"

She nodded and let go, sitting in the front next to Cassandra and J'zargo. Cassandra instantly looked confused and glanced at Aela. Seems like it hadn't sunk in just yet. That would change quickly.

"It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children." The Priest began. "It was from her love of us that we first learned to love each other. It is from this love that we learn that a life lived alone is no life at all."

At that moment, staring into Vincent's blue eyes, Vilkas couldn't help but agree.

The Priest continued. "We gather here today, under Mara's loving gaze to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship." He smiled brightly for the crowd. "May they journey together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty and in joy and hardship."

Vilkas felt a small scarred hand reach over and take his hand. He looked down to see Vincent's ungloved hand intertwined with his own. He couldn't even believe he hadn't noticed that Vincent wasn't wearing his trademark gloves. He was bearing his scars in front of everyone to see but no anxiety showed on his face. He was at peace.

"Do you agree to be bound together in love, now and forever?" The priest asked, knocking Vilkas out of his observation.

"I do." Vilkas answered instantly. Gods, he'd never been so sure of anything in his whole damn life. "Now and forever."

The priest then turned to Vincent. "Do you agree to be bound together in love, now and forever?"

Vincent nodded and tightened his grip on Vilkas' fingers. "I do. Now and forever."

The priest beamed at the young lovers and held his hands high again. "Under the authority of Mara the Divine of love I declare this couple to be wed."

Vilkas wasted no time. It may have been his possessive streak but he grabbed Vincent and pulled him in close. Vilkas had never been a man to openly display his affections in public. Sensitive was not a word Vilkas would use to describe himself. He wasn't much for the romantic declarations of love or the reciting poetry type. (Not that he didn't know any poetry because in reality he knew quite a bit of it, being a scholar and all.) He could love without having to say or show it on the outside… But today…in front of all these people… he grabbed Vincent' face with both hands and passionately pressed their lips together.

He kept his eyes shut but his ears heard it all. The priest let out a startled but good-hearted "oh my!" He heard Farkas laugh and clap. He heard Tovar and Athis cat-calling and cheering. Apparently seeing Vincent so happy must have cooled Tovar's head. He heard Aela and Ria squeak in delight and Njada huff in…approval? He heard Tilma bursting out into tears and caught something along the lines of "they grow up so fast," between her sobs. He heard J'zargo laughing in sadistic delight at the face Cassandra was most likely making and the gasp of disbelief that Vilkas heard from her made it just that much more worth it.

But of all the noises that Vilkas could hear the best one by far was the surprised gasp Vincent made before his lips were captured and the pleasing purr that followed it. He felt Vincent's marred hands move to his back and grip tightly for the entire world to see. He felt the pressure of the redhead's lips as he kissed back, keeping the kiss innocent but longing.

When they pulled away, only a few moments later, they were both smiling. Vilkas couldn't even bring himself to look at the crowd because he was too lost in those hues of blue. Apparently they had spent some time doing that because the Priest got impatient and cleared his throat. Vilkas tore his eyes away and looked at the slightly embarrassed Redguard.

"Your rings." He offered them out with a kind smile.

Vilkas took the smaller one and inspected it closely. He eyed the other one before picking up Vincent's hand and sliding his ring on. Vincent then took the other ring and slid it on to Vilkas; hand. It fit perfectly.

"How'd you know my size?" Vilkas asked the priest.

Before he could answer, Vincent spoke up. "I gave the measurements."

Vilkas' eyebrow rose. "And you knew how?"

"I told you." The redhead spoke, a coy smile coming to his face. "I like the feel of your hands. Let's say I have a real good memory and leave it at that, hum?"

"Probably a good idea." Vilkas replied…less they scar everyone in the room. His own thoughts wandered to a dirtier place. He felt a growl stirring in his throat but he managed to hold it at bay.

"Congratulations!" Farkas yelled, running up and grabbing them both in a two armed hug.

"Farkas!" Vilkas wheezed, almost feeling all the air rush out of his lungs from the powerful bear hug. "I'm so happy for you both!" He let them both go and smiled broadly. Aela ran up and hugged Vincent tightly. Ria soon joined in on the hug and they chatted happily away with him.

Tilma walked up, her face still tear soaked and her eyes puffy from crying. Surprisingly she did not go to Vincent, whom she appeared to have favored. Instead, she went to Vilkas and hugged him tight around the middle. She felt frail in his arms and Vilkas gave her a soft hug back. She cried softly a bit more and Vilkas just let her. He was vaguely aware that Vincent was watching with a soft loving smile on his face.

Tilma finally stopped and looked up at him with her watery eyes. "Oh Vilkas…you've grown up so fast. I remember when you were just a child, fighting with your brother and getting into mischief." She sniffled and smiled up at him. "Jergen and Kodlak would be so proud of you."

Vilkas felt a lump form in his throat at their memories and he nodded stiffly. Her words touched a deep part of him that he usually kept locked away. He just swallowed the pain of their absence and smiled just for her. "Thank you."

She smiled proudly and gave him another short hug before moving on to Vincent. Vilkas decided that he needed some fresh air and walked outside. He leaned against the temple wall outside and took in a deep calming breath. He didn't know why Tilma's words affected him as they had but he needed to take a step back and think. He was not a man that cried often but he was suddenly struck with the urge to do so. He pushed aside the feeling, knowing he shouldn't mourn them. He'd had his time to despair in their passing and he shouldn't be thinking about it now…but Gods, what he wouldn't give to have them both here now.

"You love him then?"

Vilkas blinked and looked to the doors. Cassandra came out and walked over to Vilkas but didn't look at him just yet. "What?"

"Vincent Renalt." She clarified as if he was an idiot. To be fair, he did say 'what'. "You love him?"

Vilkas scowled. He wasn't in the mood for this. "Aye. Is that a problem?"

"No." She answered with a shrug. "It explains everything though."

"Aye? How's that?" He kept the hostile edge out of his voice. No need to start a fight here…although he certainly could use one to let off a little steam.

"Just…" She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "...just everything. How long…? Since before we met?"

Vilkas actually felt a bit bad to tell her this. "Aye."

She laughed humorlessly. "Ah. I never stood a chance then. He only ever had eyes for you." Vilkas didn't want to answer her. They both knew the answer anyway. He wasn't sorry and wouldn't apologize but then again she didn't ask for one. They just stood in silence for a while before she finally looked at him and smiled. "Well then, I guess I'll have to wait for such an interesting man like your harbinger to come to his senses then."

"Aye. I guess you will." Vilkas folded his arms and kept calm.

She nodded. "Farwell then, Vilkas of Jorrvaskr. Congratulations on your marriage."

"Good-bye Arc-Mage Cassandra." He nodded respectfully. Not that he respected what she did and what she stood for but she still held a station. "Safe travels home."

She smiled and waved in response and left quickly for the carriages. J'zargo came out soon after still chuckling. He pet Vilkas on the shoulder but quickly removed his hand once Vilkas scowled and glanced at the offending appendage.

"J'zargo is sorry. No offense meant, Master-at-arms. It was…a beautiful ceremony."

"I appreciate your kind words." Vilkas kept his arms crossed defensively. He may be smarter then he looked but he was still a mage.

"I'm sure you enjoyed watching my boss squirm. " He guffawed again. "I am glad at least that J'zargo did not miss it."

"Go easy on her." Vilkas surprised both himself and the Khajiit.

"What?"

"Go easy on her." Vilkas repeated. "She's had a tough night."

The Khajiit seemed to thankfully understand. "Ah. Yes. I'll be sure to hold my tongue…at least until she smiles a real smile again." With that, J'zargo took his leave and hurried after the Arc-Mage.

Vilkas watched them go, strangely feeling no pleasure in her heartbreak. She fell in love with Vincent at first sight and Vilkas couldn't blame her. Although he personally didn't fall in love as soon as he laid eyes on him, he understood why she was so attracted. Even when he thought he hated Vincent, he couldn't deny the lust he felt and the primal urge pushing on his will, making him want to fuck the pretty little redhead into the floor. He understood her…and even though he had wanted to rub it in her face before…he felt no satisfaction from it.

"There you are." Vincent spoke placing a soft hand on Vilkas' back. Vilkas smiled for him and his posture relaxed at his touch. "I've been looking for you."

"I just needed some air."

"Are you ready to go back now?" Vincent asked, taking his new husband's hand tightly.

"Aye." Vilkas squeezed the hand that gripped his own. "More than ever."

\---------  
The feast had been amazing. Aela and the others really did do everything they could to make the night enjoyable and entertaining. Tilma had actually rented rooms for everyone at the inn so Vincent and Vilkas could have the place to themselves tonight.

So now, long after everyone had left and long after the time they SHOULD have been in bed, Vincent and Vilkas sat across from each other in the mead hall. They sat close together, watching the fire burn and light up the area around them. It reminded Vilkas of the night Vincent first mentioned Cadrian. Back before they admitted they loved each other and all the lies and doubt were still thick between them. Now all that was gone. All the Doubt, the fear, the anger and the threat. It was all gone. They certainly had come a long way from burning hatred to mountain moving love.

"Something happened, didn't it?" Vincent asked softly passing his half-full mug of mead back and forth in his hands.

Vilkas looked at his lover, now-husband and sighed. Gods, did he look beautiful right now. The light of the fire fell on his just the right way… "What makes you say that?"

"I'm not blind." Vincent smiled sadly. "It's about what Tilma said right? About Kodlak and Jergen." Clever boy.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?"

Vincent shrugged. "Maybe. I pay close attention to you, however."

"Ah."

"What's wrong Vilkas?" He asked, not unkindly.

"It's stupid. Don't worry about it love." The affectionate name fell easier from his lips now.

"It's not stupid if it upsets you." He sighed and put his mug aside. He stood up and took Vilkas' mug away and set it down beside his own. He then sat in Vilkas' lap and rested his cheek against Vilkas' shoulder. "You're sad because they aren't here anymore. Right?" Very clever boy.

Vilkas sighed and wrapped an arm around him to keep him in place. "Aye. I suppose."

"For what it's worth…I'm sorry Vilkas. I'm at least partially responsible for Kodlak and Skjor's deaths…"

"Skjor was a good man." Vilkas interrupted. That was another he man he missed. "He died like how he lived though…in glorious battle and knowing him…he wouldn't of wanted to go out any other way."

"But Kodlak…"

"He died defending you and everyone else who he called a companion. He wouldn't have had it any other way either…I just hope he's in Sovenguarde now."

Vincent smiled. "I'm sure he is." He rubbed a hand along Vilkas' breastplate and Vilkas found himself wanting to feel that scarred flesh upon his bare skin. For once, he internally cursed his breastplate for being in the way. "What about Jergen?"

"What about him?" Vilkas gruffed out.

"Do you think he's happy wherever he is?"

Vilkas paused. "He was cursed with the beast blood like us so I guess he's with Skjor now in the hunting grounds."

"Did he want that?"

Vilkas felt that lump form in his throat again. "I was too young to remember…and I doubt he would have told us at all…he didn't share things like that."

"…I see." Vincent pursed his lips for a moment. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I told you it was stupid…and I'm sure he's happy." Vilkas wasn't sure who he was trying to make feel better.

"I also saw you talking to Cassandra." Vincent thankfully changed the subject. "You weren't being too hard on her, were you?"

"No." Vilkas answered truthfully.

"I honestly don't know what either of you see in me. What anyone saw in me…"

"Are you fishing for compliments?" Vilkas asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is it that easy to tell?" Vincent asked in a mock distressed way.

"Aye. I can read you like a book." Vilkas really knew what Vincent meant. The mage was still finding it hard to accept that he was drop dead gorgeous. All of his self esteem had been beaten out of him though and it would take time to repair. Thankfully, now with Cadrian gone, Vilkas could focus on giving his husband the attention and affection that he deserved.

"Well, don't let me stop you. Go ahead."

Maybe it was the drink getting to him or the way that Vincent wriggled on his lap, but it made him say things he wouldn't normally say. "Ever since you've made that off-handed comment about my hands, all I've wanted to do was get you naked."

He watched Vincent's blue eyes widen in surprise at his comment and honestly, Vilkas surprised himself with that one. "Well then…" Vincent stood up and grabbed his mug. "Can you get us some furs then?

Vilkas raised an eyebrow. "Really…? Here?"

"Haven't you ever thought about it?" Vincent smirked and took a long sip of his mead.

Vilkas couldn't argue with that. He got up and headed for their room. While there, he took off his armor for ease of access. He grabbed some warm fur blankets and headed back up to the mead hall. Vincent was setting down the wooden bars to cover the doors as he was coming back.

"Don't want anyone walking in." Vincent mused and then went back over to the fire. He grabbed his drink again and finished the contents.

Vilkas laid the furs down on the floor in front of the fire before reaching for the mage. He grabbed him around the waist with one hand and took the mug from him with the other. He set it back down and pulled his husband toward the furs. He rid him of the coat instantly and slung it over the side of a chair. Vincent's incessant hands instantly went for Vilkas' shirt and helped him sling it over his head. The minute that hard flesh was exposed to the mage, his scarred hands ran along every dip and curve. The mage let out a pleased purr before ridding himself of his vest and shirt, then pressing the two of them together.

Vilkas' mouth descended upon Vincent's and he could taste mead on them. A not so shy tongue came out to caress the seam of Vilkas' lips and he let the appendage in willingly. Vilkas felt a spark of arousal shoot down his spine as their tongues' touched so he gripped the redhead in his arms tighter. He could feel Vincent's hands moving down to the hem of his pants and cupping him through them. Vilkas jumped a bit, surprising himself by how hard he was already. He pulled his lips away, brushing away the string of saliva that had them connected.

"Lay down?" Vilkas asked and Vincent nodded. He let go and laid he warm himself down on the warm furs. Vilkas followed him and helped his husband rid himself of his pants and shoes. Then he took off his own so they could lay naked together.

"You know…" Vincent mused, reaching out for Vilkas. "I'm never going to be able to look at this hall the same way again."

"Mmm…" Vilkas caressed Vincent's lips with his own again, taking in the sweet taste. "You're drunk…aren't you?"

"No…" He defended weakly. He tried to push Vilkas flat but Vilkas grinned and didn't budge. The redhead huffed. "Please?"

"Since you asked nicely." Vilkas spoke softly and lay on his back. The minute his back touched the furs, he found himself being straddled by the Harbinger. "Grab my mead…would you?"

Vincent blinked then complied. He found that he could just about reach it on the table and handed it to Vilkas. He set the mug aside on the floor and then ran his hands over Vincent's form. The mage seemed slightly confused. "I thought you were going to drink it."

"No…" Vilkas growled slightly as he took in such a beautiful form, scars and all. "I have better plans for it."

"Okay…?"

"How would you like it?" He'd do anything Vincent asked of him.

Vincent thought for a moment. "I'll ride you tonight if that's alright."

It was more than alright. It was actually Vilkas' favorite position. Why? It was hard to explain. Vilkas would just call it a fetish and leave it at that. "Aye." He answered him before pushing on Vincent's hip. "Lean forward."

Vincent did as asked, resting his arms on the sides on Vilkas' head. Vilkas reached for the mead and dripped his fingers in the liquid. Vincent laughed, when he saw what he was doing. "Really?"

"It won't hurt you." Vilkas coated his fingers well before moving them up. "You may get a bit drunk from this."

"Oh yeah?" Vincent tensed as he felt the first slick finger enter him. "Where'd you learn about that?"

Vilkas shrugged the best he was able from the floor and thrust his finger slightly, loving how Vincent tensed around his digit. "A book somewhere. I can't remember."

"A book?" Vincent strained, trying to keep talking to distract himself from the discomfort. "What kind of books are you reading?"

"Very interesting ones…" He added another finger and chuckled when Vincent yelped slightly. "Is that nice?"

"D-don't distract me." Vincent's will wavered as Vilkas felt him twitch around his fingers. So he prodded that spot again and watched the mage's mouth hang open.

"Go ahead then…" Vilkas let that husky edge enter his voice. "Talk."

Vincent hesitated, breathing in deep to get air back into his lungs. Then he glared, half-heartedly at Vilkas under him. "Cheeky bastard."

Vilkas just grinned and added one more finger. He saw that brief pain cross his husband's face and he raised his other hand to rest on Vincent's hip. He caressed his side to try and soothe the discomfort away and Vincent seemed thankful for the gesture. After a time, Vincent seemed to relax and sighed deeply.

"Ready then?" Vilkas asked, pulling out his fingers.

"Yeah…" Vincent reached over and dipped his hand in Vilkas' mead before reaching behind him to coat Vilkas' member in it. Vilkas hissed and squirmed, pulling a laugh from the mage atop him. DAMN! That was cold! "What's wrong Vilkas?" Vincent had asked innocently. "Talk."

"Shut up." Vilkas growled with no real heat behind it.

Vincent let out a slightly breathless laugh and lined himself up with Vilkas. He planted his legs firmly as he slid himself down, groaning out loud when the head of Vilkas' cock pushed past that first ring of muscle. Vilkas had a firm grip on Vincent's hips and he bit back a noise of his own when he felt this. He remembered vaguely that they were all alone and he could be as loud as he wanted but hell…old habits die hard.

Vincent slowly sunk down all the way to the base and even though it was maddening for Vilkas, he let his husband set the pace. Vilkas kept his grip loose enough that Vincent could move and he rested his head back against the furs as he waited for his husband to adjust. If he was a vocal man, he'd tell Vincent how wonderful he feels inside and how much he loved him. However, this was not the case but he had faith that Vincent knew. Every time they would lock eyes, Vilkas would speak volumes without saying a word and Vincent just seemed to know.

Vincent nodded. "Okay…I'm good."

The mage began to move and Vilkas arched his back from the sudden pressure. He gripped Vincent's hips tighter, most likely leaving marks but Vilkas didn't want to lose control so quickly. Luckily, the redhead didn't seem to mind and purred at the added pressure on his hips. Vilkas grit his teeth as Vincent rocked faster.

"Hey…Calm…" Vilkas couldn't really finish the sentence as one rocking motion pulled most of his breath from his lungs.

"Hmm? What was that?" Vincent smirked and sounded quite smug. Vilkas growled in response and he watched Vincent put on a mock distressed face. "Aw. Have I upset you?"

"No…" Vilkas managed to growl out, silently cursing those hips but loving it just the same. He must be masochistic…

"You sure?" He teased, rocking his hips in just the right way and the little bastard knew it too. Given time, they had learned to handle each other's bodies so well that it was practically instinct now. Vincent knew how to drive Vilkas wild and vice versa.

"Shh…" Vilkas tried although he was sure it wouldn't work.

"Just admit you like it." Vincent laughed and kept that pace. Vilkas could tell that the mage was not unaffected though. His cheeks were flushed red and Vilkas could see those blue eyes becoming hazy.

So Vilkas sat up but grabbed Vincent around the waist so he wouldn't dislodge the mage from his lap. Vincent let out a gasp at the motion but didn't seem surprised. Instead, he let his hands wrap in Vilkas' hair and kept their lips close together; not quite touching but close enough to close the distance at a whim. Vilkas moved with practiced precision and kept one hand on the mages' hip, while the other moved up to grab hold of Vincent's crimson red hair.

Vincent took his time to adjust to the new angle before he started moving his hips again. He let out a soft mewl noise as Vilkas pressed against that special spot inside of him no matter how he moved. Vilkas let a smirk slide onto his face as he bucked his own hips up and pulled Vincent's hair sharply.

"Ah! V-Vil-!" Vincent's eyelashes fluttered and his cock throbbed between them.

"Hmm? What was that?" Vilkas couldn't help but give the mage a dose of his own medicine.

Vincent attempted a half-hearted glare but his face kept faltering with every powerful thrust of Vilkas' hips and every tug on his hair. Vilkas hummed in pleasure. He was barely holding on but he wanted Vincent to come before he did. The little redhead seemed to be just barely holding on for dear life. He tightened his grip on Vincent's hair and instead of pulling back he pushed him forward and smashed their lips together in a fierce kiss. He almost grinned when he felt Vincent whimper against his mouth and explode between them at that moment. He kept all witty banter aside for now and focused on that coiling feeling in his lower half. Vincent's walls had tightened like a vice with his climax and Vilkas was powerless to stop his own peak from being reached.

 

"Hey…"

Vilkas let out an acknowledging sound as he felt Vincent run his fingertips up and down his spine. He was lying on his stomach amongst the furs they had piled on the floor into a makeshift bed. He had pulled up the fur blanket to their waists as they recovered from lovemaking. There was nothing to keep them warm but the fire, blanket and each other…and Jorrvaskr could be quite cold at night.

"Does this…change anything?"

Vilkas turned his head to look at his husband. Vincent was resting his chin on his hand, looking thoroughly ravished and oh so beautiful by the light of the fire. He knew that Vincent hated being called beautiful, so he just kept it to himself for now. "Change what?"

"Being married. It doesn't change anything, right?"

Vilkas thought for a moment. "Nothing. We'll carry on as before. It's only official that you belong to me now."

"I belong to you, hun?" The redhead seemed amused.

"Aye. You belong to me and I belong to you. That is the way of it."He saw at pretty mouth curve up into a genuine smile and at that moment, everything was perfect.

"I can deal with that." Vincent chuckled before smiling coyly. "Want to get weird again?"

Vilkas scoffed. "Are you drunk?"

"A little." He admitted his coy smile widening. "You did shove some IN me."

"True."

"So?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Me? No. It's my wedding night after all." He shook Vilkas by the shoulder. "Come on love. Get weird with me."

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Aye. Whatever you want." Like he'd really ever say no to sex with Vincent.

Vincent grinned and kissed Vilkas on the cheek. He didn't need to whisper, since they were the only ones here, but for some reason, the slightly inebriated Harbinger felt the need to. "Right. But this time, I'm on top!"

"…" This man would be the death of him. He just knew it.


	33. Dare you to move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My birth is nothing to celebrate." Vincent spoke deadpanned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The children get introduced. Said it before but yeah...no M-preg.

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\---  
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_20th of Evening Star_

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Vilkas complained again as he swatted more cobwebs out of the way. "Are you sure we're even in the right place?"

"Yeah." Vincent finally answered, clutching his sword tightly in his right hand. "We've basically killed everything, right?"

"So far… Eight spiders, four Chaurus and fifteen weird creatures."

"Falmer." Vincent sighed and swatted some cobweb as well. These tunnels just seemed to twist on forever. "I read somewhere that they were once called Snow elves."

"Snow elves, eh?" He heard Vilkas huff. "I think I recall something about them in the old texts."

"Yeah?" Vincent adjusted his grip on his bastard sword and looked around. There were an awful lot of glowing mushrooms around. Vincent made a mental note to gather some later. He didn't need to collect alchemy ingredients to save his own life anymore but old habits die hard.

The spirit was one with him. It was only subtle differences at first, so small that not even Vincent seemed to notice. He had more energy…his magic was much more powerful, he could wield his previously two-handed bastard sword in only one hand with ease and he'd picked up a few magical tricks for combat.

"Aye. Heard the Nords tried to kill them off."

Vincent cracked a smile. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Anyway…" Vilkas continued with mock irritation in his voice. "…The books don't go into too much detail but the Nords either killed them all or drove them underground."

"Underground seems a fair notion…" Vincent sighed. "Seeing as we're being attacked by them, they're probably not extinct."

"Only probably." Vilkas agreed.

"I don't see any sign of captives either." The redhead became serious. "Only bones…"

Vincent felt Vilkas' hand gently rest on his shoulder. He took more comfort in that touch then he thought Vilkas would ever know. "Aye but we still have some tunnel left. Maybe there will be survivors."

"I hope so. I heard Kids had gone missing too."

Vilkas stood beside him and held the torch aloft. "I'm sure we'll find something."

Vincent wasn't sure he wanted to find anything. Just killing these creatures could be enough for him. He'd rather find no one then bones of those who HAD been here.

"Should we be doing this today?" Vilkas piped up again and Vincent could hear the wary tone enter his voice.

"What other day could we do this? People are in danger…I think."

"…" Vilkas sighed. "It's your birthday."

"My birth is nothing to celebrate." Vincent spoke deadpanned. He knew it sounded harsh but he was right. Sure, it was a holiday called Chil'a in the barony of Kairou but they weren't there. In Daggerfall, it was the dread Daedra Prince Molag Bal's summoning day. His mother died on this day as did his unborn sibling. There was nothing left to celebrate.

Yet, Gods bless his husband. Vilkas was still trying… "That's not true."

"It's not?" Vincent snorted, peeking around the corner."

"You were born today." Vincent could practically hear Vilkas scowling.

"So?"

"So?" Vilkas echoed, sounding slightly more annoyed. "You're mine."

Vincent bit back a chuckle. "Yeah. I know Vilkas."

"Then why say such a thing?"

"Because." His protest was weak so he changed the subject. "Can't you just say you love me?" Vincent teased.

He knew Vilkas loved him dearly…there is no way such a man would have gone through what he did if no love was involved. Love was not a word that Vilkas used often or lightly however. Sometimes, he would call Vincent 'love' and when he spoke such words; they always came out breathless and deep. Even parting ways, Vilkas would let out a breathy; 'goodbye love' and it made him want to stay.

Vilkas gripped Vincent's wrist tightly and pulled him closer. He scanned his surroundings before locking eyes with Vincent. Always watchful of danger and they were in a dangerous place. "I love you." He began. Vincent could feel a warm feeling starting to spread through his chest at those words. "You know I do."

"Yeah. I know." Vincent smiled softly.

He watched Vilkas' lips slowly pull into a handsome grin. "Can't you just say you love me back?"

Ah, a taste of his own medicine. Vilkas was getting much better at doing that to him. Vincent was starting to feel his arousal grow at the sight of Vilkas smiling as he was so he stuck out his tongue to defuse the situation and turned away. "I love you too, you big git."

He heard Vilkas let out a deep growl in satisfaction and Vincent could feel his face heat up. Damnit, they were married! Vincent shouldn't be acting like a cat in heat anymore. Yet Vilkas was able to turn him on with a mere glance…He was hopeless…Gods help him.

"This isn't over." Vilkas pushed ahead of him and sent a glance over his shoulder. "Your birthday is worth celebrating. You were born this day and you are mine. I am thankful for your birth."

Vincent's face was going to stay perpetually red, he swore. "Aren't you the romantic, today? How unlike you." He spoke, trying to defuse the situation.

Vilkas just shrugged. "I am passionate about the things I care about."

Vincent huffed and followed. "Like reading, training, teaching about the old ways and lore…"

"You." Vilkas cut him off. "My family in general."

"Knock it off."

Vilkas slowly turned. "Excuse me?"

"I'm embarrassed." Vincent corrected himself. "That's all."

"I see. I understa-"A wailing cry stopped him dead. It sounded distant but it was defiantly a young child crying.

"Is that…? WOAH!" The room suddenly shook violently as if an earthquake struck the area. Vilkas reached out instantly and gripped Vincent tightly before backing into a wall to hold them up. "What's happening!?"

"It's possible the structural integrity of this cave is not as well as we thought. It is rather old and old structures cave in."

"I really don't want to be stuck here if there's a cave in!" Vincent gripped Vilkas tightly as the rumbling suddenly stopped.

"Aye…" Vilkas cautiously moved away from the wall. "We should leave."

Vincent looked down the tunnel from which the cry came from. He was going to hate himself for this. "We can't. Vilkas…that was a child crying. There are children alive down here. We can't just leave them."

"…Aye…I know." He sighed. "Let us move fast then. We need to get out of here."

They ran through the ruins like there was no tomorrow. Thankfully, no more creatures seemed to bar the path ahead. Another cry sent another sudden shockwave through the cavern and Vincent had to grab hold of Vilkas' arm to steady himself. Of course, running at full tilt almost knocked them both on their asses when the rumbling started again. Vilkas had managed to grip the rocky wall once Vincent grabbed hold of them and kept them both from taking a nasty tumble.

"Shh! They'll hear!" A child's fervent whisper cut in the silence once the rumbling had stopped. "We'll be eaten for sure then!"

"I-I'm s-s-sorr-r-ry-y…" A sniffle and a bit back sob. Powerful lungs that one must have. Vincent could hear an infant crying softly and it lit the fire in his heart to move faster. Children were in danger and they may be hurt! The very thought broke his heart.

"Hurry Vilkas."

"Aye!"

They regained their footing and charged off once again, exiting the narrow tunnels and emerging into a wide open area with what looked like pens set up for livestock. Vincent scanned quickly and saw bones inside some, clothes; personal possessions…where were the children?!

"Someone's here. Shh…I won't let them get you. I promise…."

Vincent heard the whisper on the wind. They were hiding. Vincent nudged Vilkas in the arm and pointed to the general direction he heard the whisper from. Vilkas already knew though and sheathed his blade so he wouldn't frighten them as he made his way over. Vincent approached behind him slowly. He didn't know what to expect but he just hoped the children were okay. There were just so many bones around….

Vilkas walked calmly over to one of the pens and saw a large basket sitting very suspiciously in the middle of the small area. Vincent could hear snuffles and muffled sobs coming from it and he quickly scanned the area before putting his own blade away. If anything came, he'd use magic to deal with it.

Vilkas, in one smooth motion lifted the basket up and out of the pen. A slight scream and another sharp cry rang out as the children were exposed. The chamber rumbled again at the cry and Vincent grew more tense with each shaking movement. The ceiling sounded like it was likely to fall soon.

In the centre of the pen, two Nord boys sat. One was blonde with blue eyes and the other had raven hair with green eyes. There facial features had some identical markings…the shape of the nose and eyes and Vincent could tell they were the same age. They were twins, Vincent concluded. Fraternal ones but twins all the same.

The blonde clung fiercely to his brother staring up at Vilkas defiantly but Vincent could tell he was terrified. "Go away! I won't let you take my brother, you Monsters!"

The raven haired boy sobbed quietly now, clutching a bundle in his small little arms and hid his face in his brother's neck. Vilkas stopped and looked back at Vincent with an air of confusion. They were clearly not monsters but these children had obviously been through some traumatic events. So, Vincent did what he thought was right and approached very slowly.

"I'm Vincent Renalt." He began politely. He gripped the side of the pen and the blonde watched him wary of every movement. "This is my husband, Vilkas."

"You…" He took a moment to scan the two of them. "You don't look like monsters…"

The raven haired one even glanced up from the comfort of his brother's neck. The bundle in his arms gave a soft whine. Dear Talos! They had an infant too.

"Were not monsters." Vincent smiled kindly. "I'm the Harbinger of the companions and Vilkas here is my Master-at-arms."

"I've heard of the companions." The blonde boy kept a tight grip on his brother. "Mum used to say that they were heroes." His blue eyes seemed uncertain. "Are you here to save us? Are all the monster's dead?"

"Yes." Vincent nodded, gripping the pen tighter. Where were the parents…he shuttered to think. "We're going to take the two of you home."

"Three of us." The raven haired boy squeaked and clutched the bundle tighter. "And we don't have one…"

Vincent seemed to be at a loss for words. They'd have to ship these kids to an orphanage. He knew what places like that could be like…The poor buggers. What he wouldn't give to help them… His mate and husband as usual, seemed to be one step ahead. Vilkas kneeled down and opened the pen gate, but he stayed on his knees, facing the boys.

"What are your names?" He asked.

"I'm Tryg." The blonde tried to say bravely. "This is Leif." He pet the raven's hair affectionately.

"And the child?"

"She doesn't have a name." Leif sniffled, calming down. "Her mom got taken by the monsters right after she was born. Our parents were taken too…were the only ones left." His voice hitched at the end as if he'd start crying again so Vilkas seemed to decide to distract them.

"How old are you boys?"

"Five, sir." Tryg answered.

"Oh my. Five years old and you're both already so brave." Vincent watched the scene a bit stunned and didn't dare interrupt. "When I was young…maybe a bit younger than you but not by much…my twin brother and I were in a situation sort of like this one."

"You have a twin too?" Leif asked his misty tear filled green eyes, clearing.

"Aye I do. His name is Farkas and I'm very close to him still." Vilkas' gaze seemed to get a bit distant as he continued. "A nasty group of necromancers killed our parents and planned to use us for their own means."

"What happened?" Tryg asked, the grip on his brother becoming more relaxed.

"We were saved by a great man named Jergen. He too was a companion and a great warrior. He killed all the evil mages and saved me and my brother. He could have walked away and left us to our fate but…" Vilkas stopped for a moment as if something suddenly hit him.

"B-but what?" Leif asked, rocking the bay in his little arms slightly.

"But he…" Vilkas took a moment. "He adopted us…and raised us like we were his own." Vilkas looked up and Vincent and met his eyes. Vincent could have sworn he saw a man at peace, finally. Vilkas smiled at Vincent and the redhead felt his heart go all- a- flutter. "This is what I will do for you boys."

Tryg slowly got up and helped his brother to his feet as well. "You're going to be our new daddy?"

"If you wish it, aye. I will be. I know I can't replace your parents but…"

"Our parents are dead." The little blonde clenched his fists slightly, his voice shaking with emotion. "Monsters ate them. It's been at least a year since they've been gone." He unclenched a fist to grab Leif's hand instead. "Will you promise to take care of us? I don't want anything to happen to my brother!"

Vincent could see Vilkas smile, not unkindly to the children. "Aye. I'll raise you as if you were my true born sons." Both boys looked at each other before running into Vilkas' waiting arms. "Whoa there. You don't want to crush your new sister, right?"

Leif looked up with wide hopeful eyes. "You mean it? She's coming too!?"

"Of course." Vincent finally managed to interrupt, his heart swelling with pride for his husband's actions. He knelt beside Vilkas and smiled. "We wouldn't dream on leaving her behind."

"Are you going to be our new mom?" Leif asked with a curious look. Vincent couldn't help but chuckle. Leif. He reminded Vincent of someone he hadn't seen in years…

"He's a boy too." Vilkas scolded lightly with no heat behind it. "He'll be your dad too."

"That's too confusing." Tryg wriggled in Vilkas' grasp. "Can't we just call him mom?"

"Yeah!" Leif agreed. "We know the difference. Can we?"

Vilkas hoisted them up in his arms and stood up. Both boys seemed to be relived as their prison got further away. Vilkas handled them easily as if they weighed nothing…and to be honest both boys were a bit too much on the skinny side. Well…Vincent would fix that soon enough.

"I'm not sure that's a good id-"

"I don't mind." Vincent cut Vilkas off with a coy smile. "Call me whatever you'd like." He moved closer to Leif who alternated between clinging to Vilkas' arm and trying to hold the baby. "May I see her, Leif?"

Leif nodded slightly, seemingly ready to trust his new 'mommy' and carefully held the baby out. Vincent took her carefully and held the bundle close to him. She felt so small and fragile in his grasp. She must have been no more than a few weeks old. The poor thing seemed healthy enough but was in dire need of milk and real food.

"Let's get of here, Aye?" Vilkas began as he held both boys tight and headed back the way they came. Vincent nodded in agreement and followed closely behind. The Gods were good and it seemed the rumblings in the cave had come to an end at last. The boys hid their faces when they passed the dead Falmer, whimpering the words, 'monsters'. Vincent heard Vilkas soothe them with a reassuring "They're dead. The monsters are dead."

The entrance to the cave was a welcome light and they stepped out of the dreary prison and into the fresh air. Vilkas let the boys down and they joyfully ran ahead to play and run through the grass, finally free and safe.

"Don't go too far boys! Stay where I can see you!" Vilkas called after them.

"Okay papa!" Leif and Tryg smiled brightly and did as asked.

Vincent stifled a laugh, only to have Vilkas glance at him. "What?"

"Nothing. You just sound so much like a father."

"Well, I guess I am now…and so are you."

"I guess I am." Vincent smiled. "I never expected to be a parent you know…" He rocked the small girl and his smile widened as she cooed happily.

"Me either." Vilkas shrugged. "Seems like it worked out though…I couldn't see those boys shipped off to an orphanage somewhere…not when…"

"Not when they remind you so much of Farkas and yourself." Vincent finished for him.

"Life at Jorrvaskr isn't exactly what I'd call kid friendly but my best years were spent there. It built character and understanding. I gained a big family."

"And now they will." Vincent nodded, fully understanding. "They'll have us, Farkas, Tilma, Aela, Ria, Torvar, Njada and Athis to watch out for them. That's quite the big family."

"Aye it is." Vilkas nodded firmly, and watched the kids run around in the grass like it was their first time. "I hope Jergen would be proud."

"You know he is." Vincent chided and looked down at the baby girl, who was smiling back at him. He just noticed that she was a Breton. A baby Breton girl with dark hair and eyes to match. "Jergen is proud of you Vilkas and the man you've become."

"I hope so."

"I know so." Vincent laid a caring hand on his shoulder and blue eyes met each other. He starred deeply into Vilkas' icy blue depths and saw everything he needed to know without the need for words. "I don't think I've ever been more in love with you than I am right now."

He heard Vilkas scoff and turn away. Ah. There was his grump-machine. Back to normal. "The baby girl doesn't have a name." he changed the subject. "What do you want to name her?"

"I have a pretty good idea." His smile was coy again.

"What's that smile for?" Vilkas asked with an air of suspicion but couldn't help from cracking a grin himself.

"Oh, nothing." Vincent played innocent. "I just believe I've found something worth celebrating this day for."

And without another word, they took their new family home.


	34. How to save a life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he finally felt at peace. Finally....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daric feels/feeling bad for the bastard. Mentions of non-con and abuse. Angst. One-sided love.

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Daric Theodistair was born the fourth son to lord Marven and Lady Anne Theodistair. He was born in the family summer home at North point, High rock. His father was a councilor to the king of Daggerfall and he secretly hoped to become the advisor someday. His mother was a stereotypical noble woman who pretended to have important things to do and left the care of her small child to an uncaring, underpaid nanny.

Fortunately, the couple had three other sons in whom they were quite proud of. The eldest Daneill, was of blonde hair like their mother and had a natural talent for politics. He shared father's temper and mothers' frigidity. He was perfect to their parents in every sense of the word. He was the heir after all.

The second was Servei. He looked like an image of father with his brown hair and equally brown of eye. He was a skilled mage and was even up for nomination in the king of Daggerfall's court. The third was Treven and he was the identical twin to Servei. An accomplished alchemist and enchanter, he started his own business to bring in even more money to an already rich family.

And then there was Daric. Poor little Daric.

He was born with Raven hair and eyes as grey as a stormy day. His father, constantly vigilant and suspicious, claimed the child wasn't his. His mother weakly protested that the child was his son and after a time his father begrudgingly relented. He was either too tired to fight about it anymore or he just didn't care anymore. His child or not, he had three true born sons and didn't care if it was a bastard. He threatened death on anyone who said that Daric was not true born however. He may have been too tired to fight but that didn't mean he was willing to give up his pride.

Daric always did his best to avoid his father's wroth. He'd hide in the library and bury himself in books for hours and hours on end. Magic fascinated him and he hoped to become a grand wizard someday. A wizard that would be better than his brothers! Better than anyone! Then he'd show his family what he was worth. However in the meantime, he put up with his father's verbal, mental and physical torment.

His mother did nothing and turned a blind eye to the abuse. His brothers could have cared less and had their own lives to worry about. His father was always careful not to leave bruises where anyone would see.

Daric strived to excel in anything he tried. He was casting magic by age eight. Sure it was only novice level spells but it was still an achievement. This too was turned a blind eye to. His parents didn't seem to care about anything he managed to accomplish. He was fully able to read, learned another language, translate some old texts, cast magic and still it was not enough.

A moment came when Daric was only eleven that he was almost saved from the path fate had led him on. His father had worked the staff to the breaking point to get the manor ready for the councilor to the king. Marven lined up his trophy wife and three trophy sons in the main hall. Marven reluctantly dressed Daric in his best and warned the child not to say a word.

The councilor was everything Daric had ever heard and more. His hair was a dirty blonde color and his eyes were the color of honey. He was tall and handsome and dressed humbly despite his station. He had strong features, high cheekbones and a delicate yet firm curve of his jaw. Daric, although very young, instantly found himself smitten. He wanted to learn all he could about this man.

The councilor's name was Edward Marcel and he held the one position that Daric's father coveted more than anything. It amused Daric to see his father squirm to be polite to the one man he despised for existing. Lord Edward seemed serene and kind of heart despite the frazzled word of politics he lived in. He was staying with the Theodistair family for three days and seemed quite gracious to his hosts.

Every morning, Daric would watch lord Edward take a stroll through their garden. He'd watch from his open bedroom window as the enchanting man would walk among the lilies with a fond smile on his face. Daric wondered if this is what it was like to have a crush on someone. He hadn't even exchanged a word to this man and yet he found himself following his movements instinctually. His stomach felt queasy when he passed and his heart gave a leap when he would laugh.

On the dawn of the third day, Daric was watching Lord Edward from his window as usual, when something unexpected happened. Lord Edward stopped in his normal stroll and glanced right up at the window Daric was nested in and locked eyes with the boy. Daric jumped at the sudden attention and made to flee his sight but the kind smile the older man wore stopped him.

"Hello there." Lord Edward spoke kindly. "Would you like to come down and join me?"

More than anything…but the threat of his father's abuse weighed heavy on his mind. He shook his head rapidly, without saying a word.

Lord Edward seemed undeterred by this however. "I see you up there every morning. Now come. I insist."

Daric weighed his options. He really shouldn't but then again, could he refuse a direct order like that from a guest? "O-okay." He spoke for the first time in three days and headed down to the garden.

Lord Edward smiled again and bent down to be on level with the short Daric. "How old are you?"

"Eleven...sir."

"Eleven." He mused. "You have been silent my entire visit…Your family has talked my ears off, I fear."

"I'm sorry to hear that, my lord."

"Not you though… Your father introduced me to his wife and sons…but he skipped over you."

"What is your name?"

"D-Daric."

"Daric." He nodded. "Tell me Daric. Are you being treated well?"

The councilor sighed. "I figured as much." He straightened up and looked over the garden forlorn. "This place…I came here every morning because it was so  
beautiful. Does it startle you to learn how uncomfortable I am here?"

"…No, Sir."

"You must be uncomfortable as well even though it is your home." He reached down and pet Daric's loose hair. "I am sorry."

Daric shivered at the contact. He'd never felt a gentle hand run though his hair before. "H-how do you now all this, s-sir?"

He smiled almost coyly. "I didn't become the kings' councilor for nothing. I'm observant, if nothing else. You've been watching me for the window every morning I've been here but I have been watching you as well."

"…" Daric didn't know what to say. He could still feel the weight of Lord Edward's hand against his head and he never wanted him to move away. But all too soon he did. Daric hid his disappointment as he watched the councilor rummage around his belt and pull a crimson ribbon out of one of his pockets.

"Here" He kneeled again and tied Daric's hair back with the ribbon.

Daric blinked and touched the ribbon gently. "My lord?"

"It belonged to a woman." Lord Edward's smile faltered for a moment. "She gave it to me as a symbol of love. I've kept it close to me for the last twelve years."

Ah. He was in love with a lady. Daric should have known…and even though he was eleven and he knew this emetic man would never see him as more than a child, his heart still sank. "why give it to me then sir? Is it not precious to you?"

"Well, she's…gone."

"Gone, sir?"

"Yes. She told me she loved me and I…" He hesitated. "Well, you're young. Take it from me when I tell you that love can make you such a fool. I fell in love with her at first sight and it was…a stupid thing to do."

"I-I'm sorry."

He let out an ironic chuckle. "Don't be, young Daric. All men must live with their mistakes and their demons. If anything, I am sorry to you. I shouldn't spill my guts about a time long past to anyone, let alone an innocent eleven year old." He paused, gaining a wiry smile. "Then again…maybe I wanted to have an intelligent conversation with someone for once."

Daric couldn't help the giggle that passed his lips. "ah."

"You know…it's strange. I've never talked about it to anyone before. Not even close friends. Yet these words come so easily when I speak to you."

"I'm glad, sir. But why give me something so precious to you?"

"I guess it's foolish of me to hold on to it any longer…fooling myself into thinking she'll come back someday. Heh. In Twelve years, I haven't heard a single word about her or from her. She isn't coming back."

"I see."

"It suits you Daric." He smiled again. "I don't have long enough hair to pull it off myself and red is really not my color. You though…it brings some color to you."

"T-thank you sir. I'll treasure it."

"Good. That pleases me."

"DARIC!"

Daric jumped at the sound of his father's voice. Lord Edward looked up, his smile gone and replaced with a deadpanned look.

"F-father."

The angry man stormed up and violently grabbed Daric by the wrist. "What are you doing out here?!" Before Daric could answer his father, he turned to lord Edward. "I'm so sorry about my son, Marcel."

"Don't be." Lord Edward scowled. "I was having a lovely conversation with your son. He is good company. Marven, do let the boy go. He wasn't doing anything wrong. I called on him myself."

Daric's father's face crossed between anger and intrigue. "Good company?"

"Yes. He's quite intelligent for his age. From what I gathered he's an accomplished scholar and has been able to cast magic already."

Wow. This guy was really good an information gathering. Though Daric was sure acting like an enigma the entire time Lord Edward was visiting, only fuelled his desire for more information.

"I…well…"

"You must be proud of him Marven." A fake smile, Daric could see but his father seemed to fall for it.

"Ah yes. Well, he is my son after all. All my sons are accomplished in everything they try." He puffed out proudly and Daric couldn't help but raise an eyebrow while his father wasn't looking. This was the closest thing to praise he'd ever received from his dad.

"Ah." Edward nodded. "Well, it is quite the family you have here, Marven. The Theoistairs will be making waves at court soon it seems."

"Family is everything, Lord Marcel." Daric could hear a bitter edge in his father's voice. "You must agree, yes?"

"Of course."

"Children are a blessing as well." Marven nodded. "Do you have any?"

Lord Edward grinned, knowingly. "No. I'm afraid not." It was Daric's father's weak attempt to insult him.

"Well, no worries old chap. You'll find a woman willing to put up with you yet."

Edward seemed to dismiss the offhanded insult hidden behind a goodhearted jest. "Well, it gets on in hours. Shall we, Maven?"  
\----------------------

Daric was pleased when Lord Edward Marcel would come and visit from time to time. The beatings had stopped, his family just tended to avoid him like he carried a plague and that was just fine for Daric. Lord Edward would always sit and talk with him. Unbothered, they talked long into the late hours of the evening.

He was in love. Daric was over the moon, in love with this man. He was young, naive and foolish. This, he knew….but he couldn't help it. This man showed him a kindness unlike anyone else and his heart fluttered every time he saw Edward Marcel. He knew lord Edward was in love though and most certainly not with him. It…hurt. This woman he loved was lucky and she had the nerve to run from him. Daric would never run from the one he loved. Love was a rare thing and it was something to be cherished.

Love never lasted it seems, not for Daric.

"I've been called away, Daric." Edward started one day, shifting in his sheet uncomfortably.

"What? Where?"

"There's been trouble with the Aldemeri dominion as of late and his majesty asked me to accompany him abroad."

Daric felt his heart sink into his gut. "W-when?"

"I have to leave tomorrow."

Daric swallowed the lump in this throat. "When will you be back?"

"I…" He hesitated. "I'm not sure, Daric. It may be months…possibly years." He sighed. "When I get back though…you will be old enough to take from your home. I'll come get you and raise you for a life in the service of the King. If that is what you wish, anyway."

"Y-yes. That'd be great!"

Lord Edward smiled. "Good. Now…I don't want you to worry. I have people watching your father to make sure he doesn't lay a hand on you. He knows he is not safe from my sight, even while I'm away." He put a hand in Daric's hair and ruffled it soothingly. Daric wanted him to stay here with him but he knew that was just a dream. He words 'I love you' formed in his throat but he swallowed them down and made no sound.

"Will you write?"

"I will not be able to Daric." He replied sadly, removing his hand from Daric's hair. "Were we will be…it will be too risky to send messages out. Just rely on the fact that you will see me again someday and I will take you from here."

And so, he left and Daric felt hollow in his absence. He scolded himself, trashed his room, screamed until his throat was raw and dry and still it brought him no relief.

"I should have told him." He growled, his throat hurting. "I should have told him."

The very next day, Lord Cadrian Belemonde arrived at his door.  
\-------------

Daric clutched his book and ignored the other boys when they teased him. He'd been here for two months now and the training had yet to start…it was if lord Belemonde was waiting for someone before he started.

Lord Cadrian Belemonde… Daric scowled. His father had been eager to be rid of him, possibly just to spite Lord Edward. The minute Lord Belemonde made his offer, Daric's father packed his things for him and handed him to Cadrian as if he was nothing.

He was angry. Angry at his father for his lack of affection, angry at his mother for the blind eye she turned, angry at Lord Edward for leaving him and mostly angry at himself for not having the courage to tell him how he felt. Those dreams…they were gone now. They left when Lord Edward left. Daric would never run from love but love could run from him, it seemed. He promised if he'd ever found love again, he'd never let it go…even if it tried to run, he'd hold on and never stop chasing.

He bit back the yelp as a boy tugged on his hair and slapped the book from his hands. He just scowled and picked it back up off the ground. His father hit much harder than they did. He could take it. He'd beat them all in this apprenticeship and he'd show them. He'd excel…he'd win.

He felt another hand grab his hair and it was ready to pull his he felt another presence and an unfamiliar voice. "Leave him alone."

"Oi!" his tormentor began. "Who ars you? This anit none of yer business, sod. Back off."

Daric peered up and saw a redheaded boy about his age defending him. Daric blinked, wanting to rub his eyes. Just who… was this? His three tormentors turned their attention to the redhead instead.

"Look it here…He's defendin' his little boyfriend."

"He don't look like a rich plug like this one…".

"He obviously anit. He's like us..Why ya defendin' this rich sod…?"

"He can't help what life he was born into." His blue eyes were beautiful, Daric noted and he spoke with confidence. He didn't get a real good look at the kid yet because the three clowns were blocking his view.

"So what?! You defendin him coz of that?! You daft?"

"I can assure you, I'm not."

Daric knew the boys wouldn't get into an open fist fight or risk expulsion so it unsurprised him when the leader of the band just huffed. "neither you are worth it. But watch yer backs now." And they retreated and Daric got his first real good look at the redhead.

He was taller than Daric but not by much. He was…handsome…no…beautiful. Beautiful was a better word and Daric couldn't help but feel his heart ache slightly. Gods…he looked a little like Lord Edward.

"You didn't have to do that." Daric finally spoke when he was sure his voice wasn't shaking.

"It wasn't right just to watch them pick on you. They probably would have hurt you soon."

Daric chuckled humorlessly. How…cute. "No. They wouldn't have. Lord Belemonde has forbidden us from fighting. Those who do, instantly fail. You weren't here when he said that." he paused. "It had been two months since anyone new came to the fold, even though we have plenty of candidates."

"Hope I'm worth the trouble." The redhead replied with a raised eyebrow.

"As do I." Daric replied without missing a beat. "Daric Theodistair." He decided to introduce himself.

"I'm Vincent Renalt."

"A last name…" Daric mused. "You weren't born an orphan like the rest of them."

"No. I wasn't." he confirmed.

A small smile came to Daric's face. "At least I'm not alone in that."

Daric saw Vincent smile too and his heart gave another painful tug. He seemed sweet, unattainable but fate may have put this…Vincent Renalt in his way on purpose. He opened his mouth to speak again but lord Cadrian entered with a large Golden birdcage with a strange cloth over it. He asked for a volunteer for a lesson and Daric saw the leader of the group of boys that were tormenting him, volunteer.

Everything afterwards went to hell.

The screams of agony, the smell of burnt flesh, the gasps and panic from the other boys after lord Cadrian left them. Daric grasped Vincent's hand and felt relieved when he didn't pull away. "Can he really do this? That was murder…"

"Apparently so." Vincent answered with a scowl. "What about your parents, Daric?"

"They won't come for me." Daric spoke flatly. "I'm the youngest of four boys. They have plenty of heirs and they never gave a shit about me anyway. When sir Belemonde showed up they sent me to him like a wrapped up gift. They were glad to see me gone."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Do you have anyone on the outside, Vincent?"

"Not on the outside, no. Cadrian let me bring my sister here though. She's really sick and now I'm very worried."

Daric took a chance and laced his fingers with Vincent's. He felt the redhead tense but he didn't pull away. Daric's head rested on Vincent's shoulder and he breathed in deeply. He smelt…nice. "We'll look out for each other…" Daric promised, love starting to bloom in his heart. He'd found Lord Edward in younger form. "I'll watch your back and you can watch mine. We'll help each other get through the trials. You'll do that, won't you Vincent…?"

"Yeah. I can do that."

Daric was glad to hear it and he let his grip on Vincent tighten. 'I'll never let you go.' He promised himself and one day, he'd say it out loud to Vincent.  
\-----------------

The next two years were hell but Daric was lucky to have Vincent. Lord Cadrian he…took Daric to bed on more than one occasion. Daric had heard from others about what happened if you refused him and Daric needed to live for Vincent's sake, so he surrendered himself. He hated it. He felt dirty every time and had to scrub his skin raw in the bath afterwards. He often cried when no one could hear him but a smile from Vincent always made him feel better.

His one true love…he thought with a smile. That love helped him get through any disgusting thing Cadrian could do…until one day.

"I've decided that you've won, Daric." Cadrian smiled at him and pet his face. Daric tried not to flinch at his touch.

"I…I have?"

"Yes. You'll make the ideal apprentice. You're trained well…obedient…" Cadrian stressed the word. "Which leaves us with Vincent. He'll be fed to the flame this afternoon."

"NO!" Daric bolted up and Cadrian lifted an eyebrow. Daric coughed and took his seat again, trying to still his beating heart. No. Not his love. He needs him. Vincent keeps him sane, he NEEDS him."What I mean to say is, I enjoy his company, sir."

"So?" Cadrian grinned. He already knew and Daric knew it too. He was playing with him. He always played with Daric in cruel, unusual ways.

Daric got on his knees in front of this man…no…abomination. He knew what he was, he'd seen it. "Please." Daric whispered. "I have never asked for anything before and I've done everything you've ever asked of me. Do me this one favor, sir. Spare him."

Cadrian seemed amused and ran a hand through Daric's hair. "You love him that much, hum?"

"Yes sir." There was no use denying it.

Cadrian smiled and it made Daric's skin crawl, but he knew to never flinch and to never shy away. "I suppose we can work something out."  
\------------

"Don't cry." Daric recalled screaming to Vincent. "Please don't cry."

He now stared at the swirling water bellow the castle where Vincent had jumped. The sun was out and it burned Daric's eyes…or was that the tears that stung as they surfaced? He was a monster now…just like Cadrian. He'd taken the transformation willingly so he could be by Vincent's side. Vincent failed the test that Cadrian had set for him but succeeded in the bounding with the spirit.

They had both changed. Vincent was vibrant…more beautiful than ever, save for losing his blue eyes. They were now copper but Daric would be able to move past it. Still so unbelievably beautiful and Gods above, he loved him. Daric' eyes were now blood red, his skin paler, and his teeth…sharper. The sun hurt but didn't destroy him like he thought it would. Cadrian had laughed and called him a child when Daric pulled away from the light. Yes, their powers did diminish but their power came from a God. They would not be easily swayed but sunlight.

Vincent had…reacted badly to the change. Daric touched his healed nose at the memory. It had hurt more than anything his father had ever done only because it was done by the man he loved. He knew Vincent loved his sister…or…not sister. That girl was not related to him, he was sure of it and Cadrian had confirmed as much. Daric tried to tell him and Vincent had refused to listen. Couldn't he see that he was better off without a sick girl trailing in his shadow?

'It was too late now.' Daric thought morosely as he starred at the swirling water. She was dead…the damage was done…Vincent had made his choice. Daric wanted to take it back but he knew he couldn't. He'd make the same choice again to save Vincent's life it given the choice.

Vincent ran and Daric wanted to blame him but knew he couldn't. He wanted to run with Vincent but there would be no escaping Cadrian now. He'd thrust Daric into a world he didn't know of and now he had to rely on the monster to survive. He needed to survive so he could reunite with Vincent. He wasn't giving up. He turned away from the window and gathered what he needed. They'd be chasing Vincent for a long time…after all he had a decent head start on them.

Love could run from him…but he'd never run from love. He'd follow. He'd catch him.

\------------  
Nine years….Daric mused to himself. Longer than he had suspected they'd be chasing him. Skyrim seemed like a poor choice of places but it seems his beloved had fallen in with a group of unsavory mercenaries. The Companions, they called themselves. What a load. At first sign of trouble, Daric was sure they would cast Vincent out…it was only a matter of choosing the right moment.

Daric watched white run from a distance and folded is arms as he observed. Vincent and …some black haired Nord and been sent out to solve an issue and Daric watched the approach the city, supposedly on the way back. He didn't understand why lord Cadrian wanted them to wait to grab him. Cadrian himself, wasn't present. He was busy setting up in the hideout. Daric had been ordered to wait. The time was not yet right and Lord Cadrian was working on a very special message to sent to the Companions. They'd already killed one member and it was almost time to send another warning.

Daric watched the two from a distance. He'd seen that Nord in Vincent's company more than once and couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. They walked too close, lingered in each other's company too long…. He didn't like…THAT MAN. He kept focused on them, they seemed to be arguing. He saw Vincent run at the Nord and then…

Daric's eyes widened. Vincent…he…! Daric covered his mouth and fought the urge to vomit. Vincent was kissing that lowlife! They were kissing quite passionately too, clinging to each other as if they were each other's lifelines. Daric felt anger for the Nord touching his Vincent. How…DARE HE!? HOW FUCKING DARE HE?! His glare was so intense he wished it could make the Nord pest burst into flames. He suddenly remembered he COULD make the Nord burst into flames but he was forbidden to raise a hand to him as of yet.

Then the Nord stopped and looked around. Daric stiffened slightly…Did he know he was there? He must of only had a general feeling because he looked around instead of locking eyes. Daric had overstayed and tarried too long as it is. He reluctantly retreated, planning a very painful death for the raven haired Nord.

 

Vilkas…. Daric hated the name. His name was Vilkas and he was scum as far as Daric was concerned. Cocky, self-assured, brutish…like every other Nord. He honestly didn't see what Vincent saw him such a man. Filth! Dirty! Scum! Werewolf! Vile, vile creature! He'd kill him…He'd kill him….He'd kill him….

Their harbinger lay in ashes and yet they would not give Vincent up. They stubbornly clung to him like he was a trophy to be fought over. Kill….kill…..kill…He'd kill them all.

\---------  
Daric felt tears rush down his cheek as he ran. He needed to get away…to get far away.

"Get out."

No…Why would he say that?

"I never want to see you again."

Gods, please no…

"Not ever. Have I made myself clear?"

NO!

Daric stopped running and sat down to sob in his legs. "He doesn't love me." He whispered to the darkness. "Why doesn't he love me?"

'because he loves him.' A voice inside his own head answered. 'He loves Vilkas. Not me.'

It hurt. It hurt more than he could say and he could do nothing about it. Part of him wanted to run back to Cadrian…come back…fight and destroy the companions another day…make Vincent see that he belonged with him but he knew it to be folly.

"Leave Daric. Don't go back to Cadrian. Run far, far away and never look back. Cadrian will be too busy with me to go after you. Repent for what you have done and never come into my sight again. That is the only way I can suffer you to live. Go back to him and your life is forfeit."

He was afraid to die. He always had been but dying for Vincent didn't seem so bad. No. He wouldn't go back. Vincent was right. Cadrian would be too busy keeping an eye on them to bother with Daric. He…believed he could make it on his own now. He'd be okay. He'd survive. Maybe he'd go back to High Rock and see…if he could find Lord Edward.

He thought of Lord Edward and how he had made Daric feel, but he felt…hollow. Vincent had taken his place and stolen his heart and he would not be replaced so easily. If he went back to see him, it would be to start a life again…healing would come after.

"Oh Daric. I thought I knew you better than this."

Daric stiffened. No….GODS NO!

"You have no idea how strong my hold is on you, don't you my pet?" he could feel dark tendrils invading his mind and the pull of a spell being cast on him. He couldn't move…he couldn't breathe….His thoughts…his own self…was receding to the back of his mind as someone took control. His world was now no longer his own and he was forced to witness it all.

\----------------  
Dying…hurt. There was no two ways about it. It hurt and was all together indescribable other than that. Being soul trapped..? That….was another can of worms. His soul was wrenched from his body and shoved into a contained space. It was dark and all he could feel was panic. What would become of him and what would Cadrian do? Would Cadrian destroy his gem and he'd be forced to wander in limbo forever? He'd heard rumors of the soul cairn and it was a place of nightmares. He'd relive his death over and over again until time stopped.  
\-------------  
Fate had other plans. Cadrian had reconstructed his body and inserted his soul into it. It…was not living. Daric could feel nothing, taste nothing and feel….nothing. It was like he was a ghost, possessing a body that only looked like his. He was forced to serve Cadrian…and would be for as long as Cadrian kept him around.

He'd captured Vincent and Daric was forced to watch the torture. He freed the companions from their cells and helped them try to save the one man he loved above all else. He didn't get to see it though. He'd delivered the journal for Vincent to see and then placed himself in Fates hands. He did what was needed even though he knew it meant death.

He felt like doing the right thing…for once.

\-----------------  
He was safe. Daric couldn't help but smile. Vincent was finally safe from Cadrian and this nightmare was over. He stood on the stone steps with light all around him. The stairs descended downwards and blackness lie below. He couldn't go back no matter how much he tried. He was gone again, his soul gem broken and there was nowhere else to go.

Oddly…he finally felt at peace. Finally….

Then a voice came from the darkness bellow. It called to him…it knew his name? A woman's voice. He felt the same pull to obey as he did when Cadrian had held his soul gem. He knew it was broken but couldn't see it anywhere. Where had it gone…?

There was nowhere else and he felt that compulsion to move…so he did. He descended the stairs and walked down into the darkness of the Soul cairn.

\---------------  
"Vincent?"

Vincent snapped from his daydream and smiled up at Vilkas. "Yeah?"

Vilkas seemed slightly amused but also there was a hint of worry. "You've been distant. Is everything okay?"

Vincent nodded and rested his head on Vilkas' shoulder. He could see Leif and Tryg playing out in the courtyard and he couldn't help but smile when he caught sight of the crimson ribbon in Leif's hair. It belonged to someone special once and he was glad to see it not forgotten.

"I was just thinking. Everything is okay."

Vilkas seemed to understand and ran a hand through Vincent's crimson hair. "Okay."

They relaxed and watched their children play… The past, becoming a distant memory….


	35. The Dragonborn comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was time to go home to Skyrim.

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Frey Greystorm remembered how things used to be. He was a Nord growing up in a Breton homeland. His father was a proud man who hated elves but knew where he needed to hide to stay incognito. Why they had to stay incognito? He never told Frey or his other children. His mother offered no explanation when her children asked her but Frey knew that she must know. All Frey did know was they ran to high rock after the treaty was signed with the Aldemeri Dominion. His dad simply said that Skyrim wasn't safe for them anymore.

He had a sister that was five years older than he was. He also had an older brother that was only a year older. He was the baby of the family and apparently the only one who couldn't remember Skyrim. They worshiped Talos and Frey was taught the lessons from the time he could speak. He wore an amulet under his clothes and held Talos in his own way. His father insisted on an alter in the house but they had to be careful to hide it when company came over.

Frey didn't know what they had to hide for. Skyrim was still free….they could have stayed but his parents were persistent on not going back. His sister Kahilda though, refused. She always yelled that once she was old enough to leave home she would…and go home to fight the good fight. Father threatened to disown her and not even that could deter her. She looked like Frey and their father. Raven haired, bright green eyes and strong facial features. His brother Darm looked like their mother; Fair haired with honeyed brown eyes.

His sister would train Frey in the art of sword and shield. Darm had no interest in learning. Frey wanted to be strong one day and be able to defend his family if anything ever happened. He knew it was only a matter of time before Kahilda left so when she was gone, he wanted to make sure he could protect his family. It was on one of his lessons that he first met Vincent Renalt.

A Breton boy had kicked mud on his little sister and the redhead had lashed out and socked the boy in the lip. The commotion had disturbed Frey from his practice dummy and he leaned over the fence that separated his yard from the road to observe. The redhead had moxie, Frey had to admit…for a Breton anyway. It didn't take him too long to introduce himself.

They made fast friends. Frey never really stayed close to anyone but there was something about Vincent that made him linger. He was easy to talk to, caring for his sick little sister and his mom was really beautiful. Frey had to admit, that's what drew him back the first time. He was just a small boy, but she was a thing of beauty. Frey saw a lot of her in Vincent and wondered if he'd look like her someday. That…he'd like to be around for.

So when she passed away…Frey wanted to take Vincent and Grace in, but his father wouldn't allow it. They were already crowed in that house and Nord boys grew quickly and they grew big. It was hard to watch his best friend get sent to a creaky old orphanage, but he kept going to visit. They were thick as thieves the two of them and Frey prided himself in knowing everything about the fiery redhead. Vincent was reserved and hid his true emotions behind the caring of his sister. Others found him too distant, too cold, and too irreproachable but, Frey knew him.

They were best friends…and then Vincent began pulling away. Frey wanted to live life while he was young and have a good time. On many occasions, he tried to drag Vincent out with him. At first, Frey figured that Vincent just didn't want to leave his sister alone but when others offered to keep an eye on her so he could go…he still made an excuse.

Vincent was keeping something from him and the mere thought was enough to drive Frey to near insanity. This was his best friend, for Talos' sake! What was it that Vincent could be hiding from him that he couldn't figure out? Frey did have to admit he ended up spending more time with girls once he hit puberty, then being concerned about his best friend's anti-social behavior. In fact, Vincent seemed more distant when Frey brought girls up.

Maybe he was offended? Frey figured he needed to go out and meet a nice girl, but Vincent's attitude seemed to turn hostile at the suggestion. Every time he'd say the same thing.

"A girl would want me to pay attention to her and I need to pay attention to Grace. That girl would want to but could never take her place." When Frey argued that not every girl was like that, he'd get a scowl or a sneer from the redhead. "You would know every girl wouldn't you? Play boy."

Frey or Vincent would end up changing the subject and they would part with a smile but in the back of Frey's mind, he was still bothered by the conversation. He knew Vincent was harassed by others to go and meet a girl; having been present for a few of those conversations and Vincent never seemed to get angry. He'd laugh and brush them off as being 'foolish'. If Frey asked though, god forbid!

"I'm your best friend! I'm supposed to harass you." Frey remembered saying one night as they sat up in the greeting area of the orphanage. He had a semi-reluctant redhead pushed up against him and had wrapped his arms around said redhead to try and keep him warm. The heating in that place was absolute rubbish and his best friend's body felt like ice. He had rubbed Vincent's fingers until they felt warm again and before he could retreat, he had captured him tightly and forced him to siphon some of his abundant body heat.

"I don't see why you're so persistent about this…" Vincent had that tone in his voice that was just screaming at Frey to drop it. Vincent had given up struggling against the stronger and larger boy and had just gone limp in his arms.

Frey sighed. "I'm just saying…were getting older, Vincent. Were sixteen and were young! Some people our age are already out adventuring or starting families!"

"So?"

"So?!" Frey echoed. "You can't stay here forever."

"I never said I wanted to stay here forever."

"All I'm saying is…you could use a girl to keep you company, besides your sister."

"I need no other girl to keep me company."

Frey wanted to snack himself in the forehead but with his arms otherwise occupied. "I understand that your sister is important to you. I get that, but you can't just…ignore everyone else. You ignore pretty much all positive attention that comes your way!"

"I don't ignore you." Vincent spoke softly, his voice becoming strangely tense and somewhat mousy.

"Well, of course you don't ignore me! I'm your best friend!" he saw Vincent's lips form a grim line. "What?"

"Nothing." His voice was sharp and sounding irritable once again.

"Vincent. Look I-"

"I get it Frey." Vincent finally managed to slither his way out of the Nord's embrace. "But you need to get that I'm…not like you." He seemed to settle on.

"Well…yeah." Frey began confused. "Nirn can't handle more than one of me."

"Agreed." Vincent said instantly. "For the love of all the Gods, do us a favor and never breed."

"That's cruel and heartless." Frey mock pouted.

He saw the redhead smile fondly. "Yes. That's me. A cruel and heartless bastard."

Frey found himself smiling too. He liked it when Vincent smiled…it seemed like a rarity now a days. He knew his friend was literately working himself to death. Between his job to make money and the constant care of his very sick sister, Vincent had no time to care for himself. Frey loved Grace like a sister, much like Vincent did but he'd already knew the harsh reality that Vincent seemed to be refusing to accept or admit as a possibility.

Grace was only getting worse and she was going to die. She was suffering and it was clear to see. Vincent worked himself to the bone to try and keep her as comfortable as possible but he too, was suffering. Frey felt as he was sure Vincent felt. Helpless.

Three days later, after helping Vincent bring some essentials back to the orphanage; apparently his best friend became adopted. They got to meet once more before he left and Frey could barely believe it.

"A grown man adopted you and your sister?"

"Yeah." Vincent folded his arms, a blank look on his face. "He only wanted me but I told him I wouldn't go without her."

"Don't you find it odd that a rich old man would want almost a fully grown young man as a son?"

"He's looking for some sort of magical apprentice."

Frey blinked. "Like…for magic?"

"Yes Frey." Vincent's lips quirked up. "Like for magic."

"Have you ever even cast magic before?"

"No." Vincent admitted easily. "But he says I have potential."

"Okay…let me get this straight… Some creepy old guy wants to make you his apprentice and you say yes to that?"

"He has the money and ability to care for Grace."

"So you don't care if you're uncomfortable with the situation?"

Vincent huffed. "Of course I care, Frey but…Grace will be cared for. She'll get help."

"And who will help you?"

Frey saw that scowl that he hated. "I don't need any help."

"Vincent-"

"I'm not a child, Frey. I need to do this for her! I can't just…watch her wither away anymore! She's all I have left!"

"You have me." Frey offered sadly.

"Yes…" Vincent mirrored the look. "But so does half of High Rock's female population."

Frey made a face. "They have me differently."

"…"

"Vincent?"

"They do." Vincent answered quickly as if he just remembered what they were talking about. "Look, I'll write to you and I'll try to see if I can come visit or if you can come visit me. Okay?"

"I suppose so."

"Don't be such a baby, Frey." He chided. "It's not the last you'll hear from me."

But it was.

Frey waited and waited but no letters ever came. Frey went back to the orphanage a few times to ask after the man who mad adopted his best friend but no one even seemed to recall seeing him; not even the owner who had apparently spoken with him. There was no hint of Vincent's whereabouts or any clue to where he was taken. It was like his best friend had vanished off the face of Nirn and no one seemed to care but Frey.

Weeks became months. Months became years and Frey had never heard a word from his long lost friend. His father had passed away too. His mom said it must have been his heart. His sister left soon after that, claiming that nothing held her here anymore. Darm fell in with some mercenaries soon after and it wasn't long until they found him dead in a bandit raid.

Frey's mother didn't hold up well. She took to blaming Frey for everything, even when he wasn't the cause of the stress. He couldn't just leave her though. She was all he had left now and he suddenly knew how Vincent felt all those years ago. He stayed with his mother through both her declining mental and physical health.

His world just seemed to be failing down around him and he could have given anything to just talk to his best friend. Vincent never failed to make him laugh and no fine female company seemed to be able to pull him from the emotional slump he found himself in. He was able to eventually admit to himself that Vincent and his sister were never coming back and he needed to move on with his life. His friend was missing for good and his sister was preparing to fight a rebellion in Skyrim. It made his heart feel hollow inside, but he found the strength to push on.

Years later Frey's mother finally passed from the world of the living. He sat, the only one at her service, feeling relived and sad. He was sad that his mother was gone but relived that she didn't suffer anymore. The news about Kahilda would have probably killed her anyway.

Frey had received a few backed up letters from his sister. They must have gotten backed up, what with the imperial patrols in Skyrim now. So, Frey got them all at once and opened him by the dates his sister had labeled on them.

They started simply enough. Mostly the 'Hello's' and 'how are you.' Then they got more elaborate. His sister had apparently met someone. She was going to get married and start a family. Frey couldn't help but smile at the thought of his sister being a mother. She wanted Frey to come home to Skyrim and stay with her and her husband. She wanted her children, when she had them anyway, to have an uncle they could look up to.

He finally got to the last letter, already ready to write some responses to her concerning their mother's recent passing and all that he'd been up to. The last letter made him forget everything he was going to write as he read the hastily scrawled words upon the parchment. It looked like it was done in low light or none at all because his sister's usually neat handwriting was crooked and messy. All it said was…

'Frey. Markarth. I'm going to die. Help me.'

Frey stared at those words for a long time then flipped to look at the date. A year old. What were the chances that his sister still lived? She'd been gone for nearly eight years going on nine now…he didn't know Skyrim and he'd have to abandon everything here to possibly go on a wild goose chase for a sister who was probably already gone.

So he sat at his mother's service…the only one there in the candle lit hall and took a deep breath. It was easy enough for him to sell the house and what little possessions they had left. It got him just enough money to buy passage across Tamriel to Skyrim. His family was gone and he was alone. There was nothing left for him here anymore.

He'd go find his sister and if she was gone, maybe he'd join the rebellion. He clutched his Talos necklace under his shirt and took a deep sigh; smiling for the first time in days.

It was time to go home to Skyrim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Continued in Dragons and Daedra~

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know Jergen didn't die that way in the canon story line but it works for this story. Sorry...I did warn that I'd be making shit up in the tags.


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